Page 127 of Devour

The car is quiet. The only sounds are Crew tapping on his phone trying to get a feed that isn’t coming back and the blood rushing in my ears.

“Axl.” Fox’s voice comes through the speaker, sounding far too much like his father while trying to keep me calm. “We’re almost there. Hold it together, and we’re going to get her out.”

I can’t speak. My throat is closed, and my hands are shaking. I’m looking at a black screen where my girl was thirty seconds ago.

I’ve never been one to pray. I’ve always been the king of my own fucked-up hell. But I’m asking whatever the fuck is out there to let her be alright when we get there. Whatever happens to her mind and body, I’ll get her through it. I’ll make sure my heathen knows who she belongs to—the same man who loves her. But I need her fucking alive.

CHAPTER 53

SAYLOR

The camera light in the corner is off. Ryan killed it with a small remote when he walked in, which tells me everything I need to know about why he’s here. And I have to be fucking ready. This could be my only chance.

He’s standing between me and the door with his arms crossed, taking his time. He’s in no rush. He thinks I’m chained and helpless, and every second he takes is proof that he’s enjoying this.

“I told you I’d check on you.” He tilts his head, looking me over. “And your brother is busy at the moment.”

I don’t respond. My right hand is at my side, inches from the knife pressed against my hip. My fingers want to close around it, but I don’t let them. He’s too far away. If I go for it now and miss, I don’t get a second chance. I need him to keep thinking he has the upper hand so I can catch him off guard.

“Nobody’s coming for you, Saylor.” He flippantly waves his hand. “Your boyfriend is dead. And as far as the rest of the world is concerned, you died in the same explosion.”

“How?” I force my lip to quiver. I need him to think I’m broken. I need him to keep talking and give me the chance I need.

His smile widens. “That bitch Tracy made a pretty convincing you.”

My blood goes cold. Tracy. The woman he fucked in our bed to make me think Axl was cheating. I hated her. I wanted to rip her hair out every time she opened her mouth. But I didn’t want her dead, and definitely not because of anything to do with me.

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

Ryan shrugs. “After an explosion, who can tell the difference between blondes?” He snaps his fingers. “Saylor Carter died in the blast. Everybody mourns. And nobody comes looking for you.”

He’s fucking proud of it. Like she didn’t matter.

I grip the blanket in my lap to keep my hand from going to the knife. My knuckles are clenched tight, and I need him to stop talking and come closer, but he’s still too far away. I don’t want him to see me coming.

“Won’t someone be looking for her?” I let my voice break, and my shoulders drop. I need to pretend to be the broken girl he thinks I am.

“Her stepdaddy might be pissed.” He pushes off the wall and uncrosses his arms. “But it’s what we were told to do. And he’s got enough shit to deal with, thanks to your dead boyfriend and his friends.”

Why would anyone want Tracy dead? Who is he talking about? Justin wouldn’t give a shit about Tracy.

Ryan’s moving closer now. His eyes run down my body, and I can see exactly what he’s here for.

“That bitch was a lousy fuck.” Ryan watches my face like he knows something I don’t and wants to see the moment I figure it out. “You sure were pissed thinking your dude fucked her. I was hoping I’d get to watch you kick her ass.”

“It was you. You pretended to be Axl.” I pretend like I hadn’t already figured that out.

He grins. “Took you long enough.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Your brother wanted you away from Hollister, and I got to fuck. Win-win.” He brings his finger to his lips. “But that’s our little secret. I’m not supposed to have pussy right now. You know how the Ravens are with their stupid goddamn rules.”

Ryan steps closer, and I brace myself to get ready. I won’t feel the least bit sorry about stabbing this fucker, and I’m going for the fucking kill.

He stops a few feet from the bed. His hand goes to his belt. He unzips his pants without taking his eyes off me and leaves them hanging open.

“Lie down for me like the eager whore I know you are.”

I lie back on the mattress. I keep my right hand at my side, fingers resting against the gown where the knife is pressed against my hip. The blade is already open. I stare at the ceiling and let every muscle in my body go slack, doing my best to make him think he’s won.

“There you go.” His tone is even more condescending. “See how easy this is when you behave? You can fight me when I make it hurt.”