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“No. I mean, I do.” I let out a frustrated groan and waved my hand toward the phone still in his hand. “I do, but I haven’t seen it in weeks. Mickey snatched it when I first agreed to help him. I was supposed to get it back when I got what he needed. Mickey never got the flash drive, so I never got my phone.”
Kieran ground his jaw and held the phone toward me, his hand clenched around it. “He’s texting you.”
I looked from Kieran to the phone as I walked cautiously toward him. Taking the phone from his grasp, I unlocked it and opened the messages.
I stared, my mind unable to understand what I was seeing as time slowed to a standstill.
And then everything was crumbling around me, rushing in as darkness consumed me.
See nothing.
Hear nothing.
Be nothing.
Make it go away.
I shot forward the moment I saw Jessica’s eyes roll back and caught her just as her legs buckled. I barked orders at Beck and Conor to get cold towels and water and had her on the couch within seconds.
“What the fuck was on her phone?” Beck yelled from the kitchen.
I brushed my hands over her neck, feeling her rapid pulse and taking in her pale lips and clammy skin for a few moments before I hurried to snatch her phone off the floor.
By the time I was sliding back to her side, Beck and Conor were both running into the room.
I stared at the screen as Conor placed the towel on her forehead, rage burning deep within me.
“What?” Beck bit out.
I handed him the phone and felt myself slip into that dark, dark place.
Not a sound. Not a trace.
Feed the blade. Watch the light fade.
Pull her closer. Keep her safe, safe, safe.
“Who is that?” he asked.
“Jessica’s brother and his wife.”
Beck moved around the couch to look me in the eye. “Wait. She really has a brother?”
I slanted him a glare and dropped my head into my hands, trying to figure out what I was going to do.
Mickey had sent a picture of Jentry and his girl eating, with two messages below.
You belong to me.
I want you on your knees, begging me to give you one last chance.
That monster inside snarled in response and beat on his chest.
Mine, mine, mine.
“Jesus fuck.” Beck’s usual curse was a pained wheeze. “Jesus fucking fuck,” he suddenly roared.
My hands dropped and head snapped up, my body instantly tense.
