Page 26

TWENTY-FIVE

DRACO

“Where were you the other night?”

I glance up at Dahlia from the couch in my oversized trailer. “Home.”

“But you never go home when we have a show the next night.”

She wants to know if I was fucking someone because obviously, I wouldn’t torture the person by bringing them here.

“I don’t remember needing to ask your permission.”

She lets her hair go from the bun she had it in, the red locks cascading down one shoulder I once liked to wrap it around my fist loving the way the color stuck out in the black-and-white interior the trailer.

“I’m sorry but I was worried when you wouldn’t answer your phone.”

“I think it’s safe to say, I can take care of myself.”

“I waited for you. All night.” I look up at the black ceiling stretching my legs out. Here we go. “You could have called me.”

“Now why would I do that?” I drawl.

“Because it’s what you do when people care about what happens to them. I was worried.”

“No, you’re worried if I was with someone.”

Guilt crosses her features causing her to look away but she quickly composes herself and looks up. “Well, were you.”

“What do you want from me, Dahlia?” I snap. “We’ve been over this.”

“I want the truth.”

“The truth about what?”

“Where you were?”

She knows I don’t bring anyone to my house included her that isn’t blood. Fear from what I might say next has her fidgeting with the hairband in her fingers.

“I said I was home.”

I don’t want to tell her about Athena because contrary to what I do around this time of year, I don’t like to hurt people who don’t deserve it. I hate that she doesn’t want to let the notion of us go and I have to admit, it’s my fault but she’s a big girl. She knows what she was getting into. It’s not like she doesn’t fuck around with other guys and Vega.

“I thought something happened.”

My eyes flick to her. “Nothing did. I’m alive and I’m right here. Now go get some sleep.”

She steps forward with hope in her eyes as she glances at my bed. I raise my phone blocking her view from my sight so she can get the message.

Thankfully, it works and she stomps her way out shutting the door harder than necessary. I get up and flip the lock sitting back down on the couch pulling up a text.

L: I took care of it.

Draco: I owe you one.

L: Don’t make me do that again.

Draco: Then you shouldn’t have sent me the video. Where is she?

L: Safe.

After what I said, there’s no way I can show up and expect her to do what I want. Kaden said she wouldn’t open the door when he dropped her off and she practically bolted to her room. If she didn’t want to talk to him, there is no way she’ll give me the time of day. Not that it would stop me from doing what I want anyway but it would defeat the purpose of pushing her in the first place. I keep telling myself it’s for our safety as well as hers. But is she safe? Men flock to this woman when they lay eyes on her and I don’t like it.

D: Where?

L: I don’t kiss and tell.

I clench my teeth because he’s meddling. I can feel it in my bones.

D: I’ll find her.

L: Good luck trying.

What the fuck does that mean? I swipe up and open the app to check the camera and my blood runs cold. I check the time and it’s five a.m. Where is she?

D: Where and don’t fuck with me.

I grip the phone looking for my keys. I find them on the counter and grab a hoodie pulling it over my head.

My phone vibrates and I swipe up.

L: I’m not a vine or a leaf. I hang. I sway. I’m sturdy and free.

I can’t get down.

Until you free me.

What am I?

I roll my eyes.

D: Stop fucking around and tell me what I need to know.

L: A rope. 1213 Stockbridge Ave.

I smile, the urge bubbling in my veins like liquid poison.

I walk out of my trailer and find Kaiden leaning on my car. “Do you need a hand?”

I ignore him and walk around to the driver’s side and open the door.

“Where are you going?” Dahlia says walking out of her trailer. She must have been waiting for me to walk out or Kaiden has a big fucking mouth.

“I’m going out,” I announce.

“It’s late,” Dahlia points out.

My lips twist in a sneer. “What, you’re my mother now?”

I watch her flinch from the sting of my words. She knows better than to question me.

“Sounds like you do,” Kaden says, getting in.

I zoom down the back road, my tires kicking up a cloud of dust.

“What’s your deal with Dahlia?” Kaden asks when I plug in my phone to pull up the GPS.

“There isn’t one”

“Could have fooled me. Anyway, where’re we headed?”

I turn left and pull into the warehouse district. My eyes scan each bay until I find 1213.

“I have something to take care of.”

“What is that exactly?”

I get out and bend to look at him before shut the door. “You can stay here or you can find out.”

I don’t have time to explain it to him because I can’t even explain it to myself. I hear the car door slam right when I open the door. There is a hole in the roof. These warehouses are abandoned and should have been torn down years ago, but investors pull their funding once they heard about the missing girls and figure it’s bad press. No one wants to invest in a town when they have a serial rapist running around. I get it. It’s bad for business.

This place used to be some sort of artificial tree house. There are plastic crates strewn across the concrete floor. Windows busted. Office chairs flipped over. Trash askew. Blankets and old mattresses but then the smell of piss hits my nose.

“Shit, that’s bad,” Kaden says behind me.

“Help me!” A man yells.

I walk deeper inside until I see a large artificial tree bolted to the ground surrounded by a wood crate. The light from the moon in the open rooftop due to years of neglect shining on his swinging body.

The man swings slightly from the rope tied around his neck. His feet trying to find purchase on the small table.

If he knocks it over, he’ll strangle himself.

“Who the fuck is this?” Kaden asks looking up at the asshole with the beard. The smell of piss wafting from his body.

“C-can you help me? Please cut me down,” he cries. He blinks trying to focus but failing miserably. “Please…I think I’m blind.” Then he cries. Sobs coming out one after the other. “Hurry, I don’t think there is much time before he comes back.”

“I have one question for you first,” I say slowly.

His breaths are coming faster. “Anything, just…please get me down. I don’t know how long I can keep my feet from slipping.”

The table is strategically placed off center. He’s stretching his legs as far as they can go almost unable to reach it with the tip of his shoes to keep it from falling.

I pull out a serrated knife. The flat part gleaming like a mirror. The memory of hands-on marked flesh removing any ounce of remorse. I look up. “Do you think nuns are bitches?”