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When Christie all but throws me out of the van, I still can’t believe she’sactuallylet me go. Sure, I don’t know where we’ve been or what side of town we were on, but I do know how long we were driving, and my phoneisin that bush.
I hope.
God, I fucking hope that’s the case.
“Just do yourself a favor and forget about them, Arista,” she suggests, hovering near me as I stand on the sidewalk outside of my apartment. The one good thing about the drive is that my head has cleared a little bit more, and I’m a bit more sure of what I’m doing and how to walk.
I glare at her words but don’t speak, hoping to God that shewillactually keep her word and drive right off into the night.
Thunder rumbles around me as she gets back into the van, and I swear I canfeelthe vibration of it in my bones. For good measure, I flip her off, and only when she’s well and truly gone do I turn on my heel and sprint up into my apartment.
Heart still pounding and tears barely dried on my face, I threw open my laptop and navigate to my messages app. Once there, I send the same message to every Lost Boy, save Isaac, and pray they answer back.
They let me go. They have Isaac. Don’t call.
I’m still terrified that they’ll end up finding my phone in the bushes or that it’s already been found, and it’s hard to tear my mind off of that terrible possibility long enough to get my shaking fingers to type out the message.
Ashe is the one to reply first.
Where are you?
I let out a shaky breath, run my fingers through my hair, and tell him I’m at my apartment.
Tenminutes, the tattoo artist texts back, and I can only assume that he’ll be here in ten minutes.
Okay. It’s all I can say. All I can think to say as I get to my feet and change my clothes into something just as black, but not so scuffed and dirty, thanks to a fall against glass and concrete. A look in the mirror shows me that my eye is black, and the side of my head is bruised where Christie slammed me against the glass door ofInkubus, but I can’t think about that right now.
I can’t think of anything except Isaac’s yells and the way he’d lied and told me it would be okay.
He was lying because if something happens to him, I would never be okay again. Especially since I’ll know, for the rest of my life, that it was partiallymy faulthe got caught.
Tired of pacing my own floor, I go outside into the beginnings of the storm, waiting for Ashe at the side of the road while I flex and unflex my fingers, willing him to show up faster.
When hedoesshow up in a car and not on his bike, I waste no time in getting into the passenger seat and slamming the door behind me.
“I don’t know if you can do anything with it, but I left my phone at the place they have Isaac,” I tell him, shaking from either the air conditioning or my own fear. “Please–I don’t know what happened, I…” I trail off and suck in a breath. “Declan Roger was there. He said that he’d been waiting to teach Cyril a lesson. He’s going tokillIsaac–”
“You did good, Ari.” Ashe reaches out and grips my hand. “You didamazingby leaving your phone there. I need to call Cy, all right?” I nod jerkily as he jolts back into the street, pressing the call button on the steering wheel so that a dial tone rings through the car.
On the second ring, Cy picks up.
“Do you have her?” he asks, sounding a little less controlled than I’ve always heard him before.
“Yeah, I have her. But Cy, she told me they have Isaac. ThatDeclanhas Isaac.” Ashe gives me a quick frown, then pulls onto a less busy road.
“I turned my phone on and tossed it in the bushes before they dragged me out,” I say, my voice shaking as my heart beats in my throat and threatens to choke me. “I…I don’t know if it’ll help. Or if it’s still there. But I tried.”
“That’s good, Ari.” I hate the way he sounds placating. Comforting, even. I don’t deserve it.
And I’ll never deserve it again if we don’t get Isaac back in one piece.
“You said it was on?”
“Y-yeah. On and in the bushes. I just don’t know if they’ve found it. I’m afraid…” I trail off. They don’t need to know how terrified I am for Isaac when I’m sure they’re feeling the same way. “He was bleeding when I left. And the woman said he was as good as dead.” The words tumble out before I can stop them, and I shudder as Ashe puts his hand in mine on the console between us.
“I’m going to call Chancellor and have them figure out where your phone is,”Cyril says, not remarking on my words. “Meet me at home.”He hangs up without another word, and I throw my head back against the seat, eyes crammed shut in disbelief and fear.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Ashe says, still holding onto my hand on the console. “And we’re going to get Isaac back. It’ll be alright.”
