Page 145 of Almost Rotten

Itug at my hair, pacing, my heart thundering against my sternum. “This isn’t okay. He doesn’t sound okay in there.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Mercer seethes. He doesn’t look up from the device in his hand. “He sounds like a raging lunatic because he is a raging lunatic.”

I can’t make out the words, just the tone of his cries and the pounding of his fists and body against the door.

As soon as he sent word, I headed for the barn. But by the time I got here, Mercer had shoved the kid into a small storage shed in the back of the space and secured the latch. He says he did it for the kid’s own good. That he was violently thrashing out,and that he was going to hurt someone or himself if he wasn’t contained.

Contained.

He’s locked in a fucking storage shed, for fuck’s sake. This isn’t right.

I can’t stop looking at the shed. Despite everything Tytus has done, he doesn’t deserve this. I should just walk over and fucking let him out.

“He’s going to get hurt,” I reason.

This is bad. This is really fucking bad.

If he gets hurt on my property, on my watch—

“If he does, it’ll be his own doing,” Mercer says coldly. “There. Everything’s deleted.” He nods once, pockets the phone, and turns to me. “As soon as he settles, we’ll let him out and talk to him.”

I inch closer to the shed. The kid’s sobbing. Screaming incoherently about a rattle. This isn’t right. This isn’t okay.

“We can’t do this. It’s too much, Merce. I’m going to—”

“What’s going on?”

I spin around, my heart in my throat.

Sawyer stands in the doorway, her confused gaze flitting from me to Mercer, then finally to the source of the noise behind us.

Fuck.

Chapter sixty-six

Sawyer

Mercer and Noah turn to me, blinking. Like I’m the one randomly hanging out in a dark barn twenty minutes before a massive event starts.

My mind is reeling, and I could really use backup. I’m glad I found them both. Three students haven’t checked in for their assignments yet. One of the volunteers has a nosebleed, and I need access to the house so I can pilfer a roll of paper towels.

What are they doing out here in the dark anyway? They were yelling, which is how I knew where to find them to begin with. I don’t have the time or patience for the argument they’re having.

Smack.

I jump at the sound and squint into the shadows behind them.

“What was that?” I take a step closer.

“It’s not what it—” Mercer grits out.

At the same time, Noah says, “We just wanted to talk to him—”

Him.

Him?

An eerie sense of knowing shrouds me before my brain catches up to what’s happening. Another bang echoes through the barn. It’s hard and desperate and so senselessly out of place.