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Gray takes my hand and I follow him to the door where Slasher’s waiting with a tablet in his hand. When we reach him, he presses play on what looks to be a live news stream.
“We’re downtown in front of the body that was only discovered ten minutes ago,” the news reporter says. “The young woman who’s been brutally murdered is covered in burn marks and what looks to be stab wounds. But the most horrific thing is the way her lips are sewn together, and the brand that matches the logo of the notorious motorcycle gang that calls themselves the Reapers.”
While she talks, there’s a picture edited onto the live stream featuring the woman in question.
“The young woman is believed to be a former prostitute, and she’s not unknown to the police who confirmed she went missing after the murder at Sleep-Eazy Motel.”
She stops talking and turns her head, listening to someone behind her. The words aren’t clear enough for me to hear.
“We’ve just been informed that the blonde hair is a wig and that the woman’s own hair was removed.”
Fuck… the hair… I didn’t even notice it. I absentmindedly run my hands through my own hair as I look at hers, which matches perfectly in the color and length.
Slasher cuts the stream off and points at a message on his phone from Tido.
Tido:You know I can’t go into details yet. But tell Grayson there was a handwritten note stuffed into her mouth. The Reapers are going to kill a woman every hour until Zoe gives herself back to them.
I know I should probably feel guilty for being the reason countless women are going to lose their lives, yet all I feel is anger. How fucking dare they do this.
“I’m not doing it,” I say abruptly. “Don’t make me. Please don’t make me—”
Slasher’s the first one to speak. “What the fuck? Why would you even say that? You’re one of us, Zoe. And we protect what’s ours.”
Gray moves behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. All I need is his touch and knowing he’s got me.
“What are we going to do?” I whisper, feeling sick that my first thought was about my own safety. “Can we help the women?”
“We’re not going to do a fucking thing,” Tio says, proving that even though he isn’t close, he’s still heard us. “You’re our Mama and we’ll fucking protect you to the end.”
As one the Kings and Cunts voice their agreement, assuring me that I’m not going anywhere.
The hours pass in slow motion.
Five hours, five bodies…
Ten hours, ten bodies…
Fifteen hours, fifteen bodies…
We’re all holed up in the main room, but for once it’s void of any chatter. Everyone stares at the clock on the wall, waiting with bated breath for the next body to turn up.
I haven’t slept a wink, and I don’t think any of us have. We just sit here, not even bothering to indulge in alcohol or eat or anything. We just exist, keeping our eyes glued to the big screen Slasher and Munroe hooked the tablet up to so we can all follow the live news.
“It’s almost been twenty-four hours,” the news reporter says.
Alana leans closer and clutches my hand in hers as we both sit on our men’s laps. “It’ll be okay,” she says for the millionth time. “They’re just fishing. Trying to scare you.”
“It’s working,” I admit, licking my dry lips.
Though I mostly feel numb, the gruesomeness of it all has reawakened my fear. The thrill I felt for finally making real progress with Cara only lasted until the first body showed up. And the one that followed felt like nails in my coffin.
Gray squeezes my hips, silently giving me his strength.
“Oh, wait,” the woman on the screen gasps. “She’s alive. I mean… it’s not a body this time. The woman is alive.”
I don’t know why that sounds worse, but it does. And my gut feeling is proven to be right when the camera shows a woman with her eyes sewn shut. She’s wearing the same kind of wig they’ve all been sporting, and blood seeps from multiple stab wounds.
“Zoe,” she screams, flailing her arms around, hitting police and medical professionals alike when they try to get closer to her. “Zoe Miller!”
