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“Rebel isn’t here,” Kian announced. “She’s…fuck, back at home? How?”
Relief flooded me. “She’s home?”
Vaughn turned the screen around and flashed it at me. “If she’s with her phone, she is.”
I slumped, the relief as soothing as balm on ragged, torn skin.
“Thank fuck for that,” Vaughn blew out a breath and ran his thumbs over his phone as the three of us strode to the exit. “I’m calling nine-one-one to get the cops out here.”
We got to the locked gate, and I shook my head in disgust, knowing now it was to keep the women in. To keep them from escaping this fucking house of horrors. I slammed one booted foot against the eight-foot fence, taking out all my anger on it, and took the momentary second of joy when it popped the lock straight off the gate.
The three of us strode across the lawn to Vaughn’s car. Kian watching his phone the entire time.
“How on earth did she get back home so quick?”
“Uber, maybe?” Vaughn replied, his pace practically a jog in his impatience to get out of there. He looked vaguely green in the light of a streetlamp. “I don’t fucking care, I’m just glad she’s not still here. You guys have to know that I knew nothing about this. I would never come to something like this if I’d known. This is so fucking messed up.” His fingers shook as he ran them through his hair.
You couldn’t fake that level of anguish.
He truly hadn’t known.
I was still pissed with him though. He’d put her in danger.
But maybe I had too. I’d gone along with all of this.
I’d let her go back into the house without me.
I’d done exactly what she’d told me to do, like a good fucking puppy.
I shouldn’t have let her. It was my fault as much as his.
We were halfway across the lawn when Kian suddenly stopped, his gaze pinned on the open garage door.
And the empty space beyond it.
“What if she didn’t take an Uber?” Kian asked, his voice as cold and dead as the Halloween decorations around us.
I stared at the empty car space, a new fear rising and swamping me. “We saw him drive in here. His car should be here.”
“Call him.” My voice was cold. Dead.
Vaughn hit a phone number on his phone, and a moment later, Caleb’s laughter came down the line. “Vaughn! Old friend. Are you enjoying the party?”
He didn’t even need to say a word. The smugness in his tone told us everything we needed to know.
He had her.
“If you’ve so much as laid a finger on her, Caleb, I swear to God—” Vaughn clenched his fingers around his phone so hard I was surprised the screen didn’t crack.
“You’ll what, Vaughn?” Caleb scoffed. “Run off to California again?”
Vaughn said nothing.
Caleb’s chuckle was nothing short of menacing. “Relax. We’re just having a little private party. You want to talk to her? Cry for them, baby. I bet they like it too.”
Rebel’s scream came down the line.
I was going to vomit.