Page 181 of Split You Open

Is she with her dad? Are they okay? How much of this blood is theirs versus those who came after them?

I drift through the house on autopilot as I take everything in and search for signs of Blair. When I get to the stairs, I see more blood. I follow it to my parent’s bedroom where it looks like a massacre took place.

“Santi!” Ledger calls out from downstairs and outside the house.

His voice yanks me out of my horror-filled trance.

I hurry back down to the first floor and to the front door to find all three guys waiting anxiously for me on the front stoop.

“What?” I ask breathlessly. “What’s wrong?”

“We should go back to the cabin,” Ledger declares stiffly.

Before I can ask why, Wes adds in a low voice, “Since Blair isn’t here, we need to assume that she could be hurrying home. We need to be there in case trouble is on her heels.”

“Has anyone checked the location of Ledger’s phone?” I ask, forgetting about that. “Maybe she⁠—”

“Police have it—I saw them pull it out of the go-bag,” Rhett mutters.

My eyes widen as I glance at Ledger. “Will that be tracked back to you?”

He shakes his head. “It's a burner and I cleared out the call log before giving it to Blair.”

“Fuck!” I reach up and grab my hair. “What the hell are we going to do if she doesn’t show up at the cabin?”

Ledger looks me in the eyes and says, “Then you better get ready for a long fucking day, Santi, because we’re going to need to you hack into every fucking camera in Caddawalk to see if she’s still in the area.”

Thirty-Eight

Ledger

It’s the longest fucking night of my life.

Where the fuck is Blair?

What happened at Santiago’s house?

More importantly, how did Anchor let this happen? He’s good at covering his tracks and hiding—this should have never happened. Anchor is the world’s best hitman and that’s because he’s incredibly cautious. There’s no way he didn’t know they were about to be ambushed.

Something went wrong, but what?

And where they fuck is my goddaughter and best friend?

Guilt gnaws at my conscience.

If anything’s happened to them, it’s on me… I put the initial hit out. It doesn’t matter that others became involved—none of the danger looming over everyone’s head would even be here if it wasn’t for my decision to pull the trigger and set things in motion.

Despite my best intentions of giving Blair a bright future, somehow, I’ve set all of ours ablaze.

This has to come to an end soon.

By the time the sky begins to lighten, we still haven’t heard from Blair or Anchor. Santi is tapping away at his computer, his eyes red from staring at it for hours. Behind him, Rhett paces. He’s been moving non-stop—just as long as Santi’s been working. It’s not healthy for either of them but it’s not like I’m doing any better.

Because while Santi works on breaking into the city’s street cameras, I’m prepping.

Guns, boxes upon boxes of ammo, knives of various sizes, two crossbows, eight grenades, a blow torch, padlock cutters, ropes, an extensive first aid kit, and a shovel are all laid out on the family room floor.

Anything we could possibly need, I have it. With a basement full of weapons, we should be ready for nearly anything. By the time I’m done bringing everything up from the basement we’re still at a standstill.