Page 38

THIRTY-EIGHT

KAI

T oby.

Asher.

Vicky.

Each one from a fraternity or sorority. Each tied to DSN and, by extension, us. But why are they dead? And why was Toby’s death the cleanest of all? Asher and Vicky were both stabbed—violently, viciously—yet Toby? He was injected with something, a serum that induced a heart attack. Quick, clinical. It doesn’t fit.

I stare at the computer screen. My mind races, going over every case again and again. The local Police’s investigation is sluggish, missing pieces, glossing over patterns that scream something bigger is happening here. But I see it. I have to see it. I can’t afford to ignore what’s staring me in the face.

I lean back in my chair and rub my eyes, which are burning from hours of combing through the police files I hacked into. Toby’s death sticks out—why kill him differently? Why make it quick, painless? Was it mercy, or was it intentional?

The room is silent, save for the low hum of the computer’s fan. Outside, the night is deepening, wrapping the manor in darkness. I can feel the weight of it pressing in, a reminder that time is running out. There’s something I’m missing, something critical, but I can’t grasp it.

I pull up the crime scene photos again, forcing myself to look at them with fresh eyes. I click through the photos, zooming in on details I’ve already stared at a hundred times. The answer is there; I know it is. I just need to see it. I close my eyes, letting the images burn into my brain. I need to connect the dots. That’s what I do.

My phone lights up and begins to buzz beside me. I pick it up and see my father’s name flashing on the screen.

Hesitantly, I pick up the phone, pressing it to my ear. “Dad.”

“Kai. Got a second?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“I heard about Victoria. Your mother sent over flowers today to her family. I’m sorry.”

I swallow hard. Vicky was the only girl I ever brought home to meet my parents. For a brief time, she was everything— we were everything. And now she’s dead. No matter what happened between us, she didn’t deserve this. And whoever did this is going to pay.

“I’m okay,” I lie, though the lump in my throat tells a different story. I won’t be okay until I know why this is happening—and who’s next.

There’s a pause on the other end, long enough to make me uneasy. When my father finally speaks, his voice is stern, almost cold. “I really wish you’d quit looking into it.”

I tense. “Who says I’m looking into it?”

As if on cue, my computer mouse moves on its own, the cursor sliding across the screen haphazardly. I groan, slamming my hand on the desk.

My father chuckles softly. “You forget I can hack into systems too, Kai. Who do you think built the security network you’re using?”

I bite back a snarl, gripping the phone tighter. “What the hell, Dad? I’m not playing games. People are dead .”

“You don’t need to figure anything out,” he replies, his voice dropping into that authoritative tone I’ve hated since I was a kid. “The Syndicate is handling it. This isn’t your concern.”

I stand up, pacing the room, my anger boiling just beneath the surface. “Handling it? They’re pinning it on Levi! They’re not handling shit.”

“Malachi, listen to me. You have a future ahead of you—a future that doesn’t involve getting tangled in this mess. You need to break away from Levi before he drags you down.”

My dad, of all people, should understand my relationship with Levi. He’s had a relationship with my mom and uncle since he was my age. But sometimes trying to explain it to him is like a foreign language. I like to fuck men. Well… not men. Levi. I like to fuck Levi.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m not asking, Kai. I’m telling you. This is not a game. You need to stop before it’s too late.”

I stop pacing, staring out the window into the darkness. “And if I don’t?”

“Kai—”

I hang up before he can say more.

My father isn’t the type to be easily rattled, and the fact that he’s so adamant about me backing off means there’s something he’s not saying. Something big.

I need to clear my head. The walls of my room feel like they’re closing in, the air too thick to breathe. I grab my jacket and head downstairs, moving through the darkened halls of the manor. The quiet feels oppressive, the shadows deeper than usual. I need to get out, to feel the rush of wind against my face, to escape the thoughts that are closing in on me.

When I reach the garage, I push open the door and step inside, the scent of gasoline and cold metal greeting me. My eyes immediately fall on my Yamaha R7, sleek and black. I run a hand over the smooth curves of the bike, feeling the familiar pull to just ride—no destination, no thoughts, just the roar of the engine and the open road.

I grab my helmet from the shelf and slip it on. I straddle the bike and take a deep breath, trying to push everything else out of my mind. The murders, the unanswered questions, my father’s cryptic warnings—they all fade, if only for a moment, as I prepare to ride.

But before I can start the engine, the door to inside the house creaks open behind me. I glance over my shoulder, surprised to see Dayton stepping inside. He’s just gotten back from student council, still wearing his letterman jacket, his hair slightly tousled from the evening breeze. His eyes narrow slightly when he sees me. “Kaiser-roll! Where ya going?”

I sigh, flipping up the visor of my helmet. “Trying to think.”

“I know that look. What happened?”

I shake my head. “I’ve spent hours looking at photos of Victoria, I just… I’m fucked up.”

“Mind if I ride with you?”

I glance back at him, seeing the same tension I feel reflected in his eyes. “Sure,” I say, my voice muffled slightly by the helmet. “Grab your bike.”

Dayton doesn’t hesitate. He heads over to his own motorcycle, a Yamaha MT-09, a little more rugged than mine, but just as powerful. Within moments, he’s got his helmet on, and the two of us are ready to go.

He connects our intercom system inside of our helmets. “You know. Regardless of our history with her. We are a little fucked up seeing that. You aren’t alone.”

“I know. Which is why I need to figure out what the hell is going on.” I pause. “My dad called.”

“And?”

“He said to stop digging. That it’s too dangerous,” I reply, frustration bubbling up as I recount the conversation. “But he wouldn’t tell me anything else. Just kept insisting I drop it.”

“What do you think?”

“I think something’s going on,” I say, the words coming out in a rush. “My father’s worried, Day. I’ve never heard him like this.”

“Then we need to keep digging.”

I nod.

“And they’re trying to pin it all on my brother. So, of course—we will end them.”

Our engines roar to life, the sound filling the garage and echoing in my chest, drowning out everything else. We roll out of the garage, the cool night air hitting us as we move down the driveway. The manor disappears behind us, swallowed by the darkness, and soon it’s just the two of us, side by side on the road, the world blurring past us as we speed away from everything that’s been haunting us.

The road is empty, but the night is still young, and for a while, we just ride. The tension starts to ease, the steady thrum of the engine vibrating through my body, grounding me. The wind whips through my shirt, carrying away the worries, the doubts.

After a while, Dayton pulls ahead, leading us down a winding back road that we’ve ridden together before. It’s a favorite route of ours, secluded and scenic, with just enough twists and turns to keep it interesting. I follow him, our bikes moving in sync.

We stop at a lookout point, a place where the road curves up to a cliff side overlooking the town below. The lights of the city twinkle like stars, and the night stretches out around us, vast and open. We kill the engines, the sudden silence almost deafening after the roar of the ride.

Dayton takes off his helmet, running a hand through his hair, and leans against his bike. I do the same, pulling in a deep breath of the cool night air. It feels good, being out here, away from the manor, away from AGU.

Dayton breaks the silence first. “So, what’s your next move?”

I glance over at him, considering the question. “I’m not sure. I want to keep digging, but... My dad’s warning has me on edge. He wouldn’t tell me to stop unless he thought it was serious.”

Dayton nods, his gaze fixed on the lights below. “Yeah, but if we don’t keep looking, we might never find out who’s behind this. And I’m not okay with that.”

“Neither am I.”