Page 67 of The Unravelings

Mack’s face twists as he reads over the information. “They fucking cut the guy like he was in an autopsy,” he mumbles more to himself than to us. “Heart missing. All his blood drained. His ribcage was completely cracked open. And it says here he died with an agonized expression.”

My stomach turns as I read further about the guy and how he was found. Just like Mack said, all his blood was gone, and his heart too.

“He was discarded like trash,” I mumble, rubbing my temple.

“Jesus. It says all evidence points to his heart being taken while he was alive,” Wilder whistles, turning a slight greenish color.

For gangsters, they sure are squeamish about this stuff. It makes me wonder what Wilder and Mack do for their bosses.

“Someone needed that heart from him…” I trail off, flipping the large file folder open and revealing a packet of autopsy photos in gruesome detail. “And they needed it still fresh and functioning.” I frown more at the horrifying information I uncover with every turn of the page.

For the remainder of class, we sit and study our newest assignment, looking through the files and trying to absorb the information. Once class is dismissed and we collect our things, I put the file folder under my arm and face the brothers scowling at each other.

“So, Wednesday?” I ask, raising a brow.

“Yeah. I’ll reserve a spot in the library for noon?” Mack asks with some civility.

Wilder and I nod in agreement, not getting another word out before Mack takes off and leaves us standing in the empty classroom.

“Such a little prick,” Wilder grumbles, nodding his head at me. “Get a hold of me, Man. If you want to come to the gym.”

“Thanks,” I say quietly, watching as he leaves the classroom.

The weight of this assignment presses in on me from every direction. There’s something about it. Something strange. Even the name sounds familiar. Like a ghost from my past.

That night, I look over the case notes more thoroughly at my desk as I make my daily notes for Veritas, like a good, obedient agent.

I sigh when my phone buzzes on my desk.

Agent Zero: Confirming your reports were submitted. Your progress is admirable. Push further. Attend those study sessions and get in with them.

Agent Zero: That’s an order.

I swallow a lump in my throat that burns like knives stabbing into me. It’s nearly time to meet JJ at our very first study session. The same study session he blackmailed me into. Not that I have a damn choice. If it weren’t for him, Jonathan would be to blame for putting me in this position. He’s desperate for me to get into the gang. Desperate for me to take Franco down and figure out what he’s doing. No problem. I can do that.

I think.

I rub my temple, counting breaths. In and out. One. Two. Three. Pressure presses hard on my chest like an elephant sitting on me. First, Jonathan and his expectations. Now, JJ and our nightly meetings.

Everything seems to be closing in on me. The walls. My situation. My damn sanity.

Fuck.

JJ: Tick-tock, Spitfire. I’m waiting…

19

Olivia

Tick-tock, Spitfire.

His words echo in my head.

That fucker.

“I’ll show him tick-tock,” I grumble through clenched teeth, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I adjust my glasses and smooth a hand down my plain, gray T-shirt. “I’ll shove tick-tock up his damn ass,” I mumble angrily, adjusting my shirt again.

I have seven minutes to make it to the library. Six minutes and fifty seconds to get my shit together before I have to face him again.