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Sebastian’s sentence is cut off by Wes, “Where the fuck are you?”
Rolling my eyes, I check the time, six minutes. “Minding my fucking business, as you should be,” I retort at the broody asshole.
“Do we need to chip you?” Lev jokes, but there’s an edge to his voice. “The last time one of us went off on our own…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but he doesn’t have to.
Fuck! I didn’t think through my disappearance and radio silence. “I’m sorry,” I sigh, “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to worry you guys. I just needed space.”
“Space doesn’t have anything to do with a certain toxic bitch ending up dead, does it?” Lev asks.
I fucking wish. Fifty ideas of how I could end Samantha immediately come to mind. Each one plays out in rapid succession as I feel a smile grow on my face. I must be quiet for too long because I hear Wes shout through the line, “Wyatt, now’s not the time to fuck around. We can’t risk O!”
“As much as I would like it to—no, it doesn’t,” I state as I glance at the clock, one minute. “Listen, I’m good. I’ll be back soon, but I need to go.” I end the call before anyone can protest and focus on the corner, and I don’t have to wait long.
My heart stops in my chest before doubling in speed as I breathe for what feels like the first time in forever as I watch the beautiful girl whose hair is no longer midnight blue step into view. Strawberry blond locks catch the wind, and I try to taste her scent with everything.
It’s been one thousand and eight hours, five hundred and fifty-six minutes, and forty-eight seconds since I last laid eyes on my girl. I’d be dead if I was vampiric and relied on her for blood. I want to punch the universe in its bitch ass face, kick Father Time in his balls, and flay fate alive for this bullshit. Ariah should never be where I can’t reach her. She should never feel anything less than love from me—from us—and because of the dusty, moldy cunt, Samantha, she’s both. The second one is a bold-faced lie, but Ariah doesn’t know that. She thinks the worst of us, and at this moment, I’d have to agree.
Ariah’s surrounded by three men as she walks back to their car with her dad. I only recognize Reign and her father. Holding up my phone, I snap pictures of each guy and shoot a text to Coop. He and his brother will have a file on them before I leave Bronston. She stops and locks eyes with me. Only she can’t see through the tints. That doesn’t stop me from believing that she might feel me staring. One of the guys taps her shoulder, breaking our connection. She shakes her head clear before disappearing into the back of their tinted-out SUV.
I watch in resigned acceptance as they drive off.
* * *
Sitting outside the Bradfords’ Colorado estate, waiting for the lights to go out, reminds me of the times I would wait for Ariah’s light to go out when she first moved to Edgewood. Ariah slept like the dead. I snort, remembering how I thought I’d need to drug her or something in order to snoop around, but I learned a bomb could go off, and she’d sleep through it. She’d come on my fingers so hard, but her eyes would never open.
The sound of my phone buzzing interrupts my musings. Colt’s name pops across the screen, and I answer, “What do you have for me?”
“Elias Jeremiah Prescott. Age twenty-one from Bronston and will attend LWU as a junior in the fall. He quickly worked his way up through naval intelligence rank before he was dishonorably discharged last year, but I can’t find out why because his file has top secret clearance, and I’m not hacking into the Pentagon,” Colt states.
“And the other one?” I inquire.
Cooper answers this time, “Fernando Nicolas Cruz. Age twenty-four from Polanco in Mexico City, Mexico. He’ll be a grad student also attending LWU in the fall. His story is as interesting as Reign’s. His family disowned him six years ago when he decided to enlist.”
Interesting. They’re military. “Why were they with Ariah?”
“They’re part of her security detail. She has a team of twenty that rotate shifts,” Colt explains.
At least she’s protected. I still won’t feel better until she’s back home. As Colt and Coop provide me with more information on Ariah’s security detail, the downstairs lights finally go out. “Okay, you have ten minutes before they start making rounds. Move your ass, Grant,” Colt instructs.
Putting in my earpiece, I climb out of the car and make my way to the back of the house. When I get to the gate, there’s a goddamn alarm system on it. “Colt, what’s the code for this?”
“There’s not supposed to be an alarm there,” Coop mumbles, but it’s loud enough for me to hear.
He’s quiet for far too long, and I know my window is closing. “Get me the fuck inside, Jacobi,” I whisper into my phone.
“We can’t,” Colt snaps, “the security system here is beyond us.”
I groan in frustration. “Figure something the fuck out. I didn’t come all this way not to see her.”
“Didn’t you see her when she left the salon? We gave you all her information,” Colt responds.
“You’re both not hearing me. I need to see her. Glimpsing her across the fucking street doesn’t count.”
Before either of them can respond, a light is flashed in my face, momentarily blinding me as I’m tackled to the ground.
Shit!
I begin to fight with the guard. “Who the fuck sent you?” a voice I recognize demands.
