Page 172 of Satan's Spawn

“I saw him earlier walking out of the bathroom holding her hand.”

Rage blinds me as I move again, barreling into the dining hall where the dance is still in full effect, my head darting all around the room for any sign of Rebecca.

I spot Saint with the guys, drinking and hanging off some girls without a care in the world. I trudge over to them, shoving Saint from behind. “Where the fuck is she?!”

“The fuck, man?” He turns and yells, wiping down whatever liquid spilled onto his jacket.

“Where the fuck is Rebecca? Why aren’t you watching her?”

Saint points his head toward the other side of the room. “Last I saw she ran into the bathroom, Hendrix followed behind her.”

I look hastily around for her again, the nerves vibrating off me has all three of the guys on high alert too.

“There’s Archer!” Riggs shouts, pointing to a group of guys at the edge of the dance floor.

I’m at his side in less than ten strides.

“Beaumont, where the fuck is Rebecca?” I chest bump him, and as usual the hero pretends not to be afraid of me.

“Why do you care, asshole? All you keep doing is messing with her head.”

Somehow the crack of my knuckle colliding with his jaw is loud enough to be heard above the music.

Archer hits the floor like a sack of shit, but I don’t care. All I care about is where the hell Rebecca is, and why this girl refuses to fucking listen.

Saint goes for one of his nerdy drama club friends, and Riggs and Levi do the same with the rest of the assholes gaping down at a disoriented Archer.

All of my guys are gripping Archer’s guys by their throats as I ask them where Rebecca is in the calmest tone I can muster without slicing three carotid arteries.

Then I hone in on the closest one to me. “You get one shot to answer. So choose your words wisely.” I snarl, pulling at the long hairs on his head. Saint squeezes his throat tighter as I yank him toward me. “Now where the fuck is Rebecca Dawson?”

Arms are attempting to pull me off the guy, but when I turn around and find Beckett’s hands on me, the glower I shoot his way is warning enough for him to back off. So he does.

He returns to the rest of the adults pretending they have any control of this situation from several feet away.

My head swivels back to drama boy, and the look in my eyes tells him all he needs to know about what will happen if he doesn’t start yappin’ through that trap of his.

“I saw her take off with Felix!” He shouts as loud as his asphyxiation will allow. “He took her toward the kitchen, so my guess is they’re heading for the Pit!”

Motherfucker.

Of course he is.

I have to play this very carefully, because even though we all assume Beaumont knows about the Pit but receives too much of our money to give a shit, it’s still not something I want to draw attention to right now. Especially since what I’ll be doing to Felix for taking what’s mine is not something my dad can erase with his wallet.

I release the guy with a shove, and so do Saint, Riggs, and Levi, leaving the drama kids huffing for breath and rubbing their necks.

Levi is already taking initiative to create a diversion, and the one thing I can really appreciate about the guy is his ability to think fast.

Riggs follows behind him, signaling with a rise and fall of his arms for the DJ to hype up the crowd.

The DJ starts spewing some shit about getting the party poppin’ as Saint’s dad and mine make their ways to us.

“What the fuck is going on?” Vic grates, crossing his arms.

“Nothing, just a misunderstanding.” I raise my shoulder in a shrug.

At this moment Archer comes to, sitting up holding his cheek. I look back and jut my chin at the carrot top on the floor. “See, he’s fine.”