Page 68 of Promise of Punishment

“Two days ago.” Her voice is quiet.

“Where the bloody hell did she go?” Why would she leave and not come back?

“I don’t know,” she says, clearly confused and upset. “This has never happened. Noah said Fable does this, just up and leaves.”

Because she’s running from her dad. Could he have found her at Hellfire? I text Trae on my burner and tell him I need Harvey’s whereabouts for the last week.

“Did Jace get her leaving on camera?” I ask Camila.

“She left through the back gate the other night after she was with you.”

“After? How? She was sick.”

“I guess not that sick.”

“She wasn’t faking it. I would have known.”

“She duped us both.” Her casual tone has my fingers curling into a fist.

“Why did it take you so long to figure this out?”

“Noah was keeping me in the loop.”

“You didn’t check on Fable yourself?” I yell.

“Why would I? She’s an adult, not a child.”

I release a hot breath and march to my desk to get my car keys. “Have Jace interrogate Noah and report back to me.”

“Already on it.”

Wes

I’m almost at Hellfire to question Noah myself when Camila calls.

“What?” I snap, furious. Trae was able to dig up that Harvey was sniffing around Hellfire until the day Fable left. I can barely contain the demon inside me.

“Fable is in the hospital. She was in a car accident in Ohio. They called Noah.”

My heart seizes. If she’s hurt, or worse, if she… I can’t think it. I clench the steering wheel so tight I’m surprised it doesn’t crack. “Charter a helicopter and get me there now. I’ll be at the mansion in ten.”

Fable

I come to, squinting against the brightness of a clean white room, and close my eyes quickly, succumbing to the thick haze in my brain.

When I wake again, pain greets me everywhere. A dull throb in my head. A sharp ache in my ribs each time I breathe. One arm is wrapped in a sling, and my foot is in a cast, elevated on a pillow.

I blink as the room swims into focus. Hospital. The antiseptic smell gives it away before anything else does. Machines hum softly around me.

A voice murmurs nearby. Male. Professional. Calm. Another voice sounds. It’s deeper and familiar enough that my stomach tightens before my brain makes the connection.

Slowly, I turn my head.

Wes stands near the door, talking to the doctor. He’s dressed in a suit, jacket wrinkled, hair disheveled like he’s run his hand through it too many times. He looks exhausted, furious, and unfairly gorgeous.

Confusion and fear slither beneath my skin. Why is he here? How does he even know where I am? The room feels like it’s shrinking around me.

I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing. I need to get out of here. I need someone to help me. Where’s my phone?