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Both officers nodded and jotted everything down.
“I will admit that I’ve tried to call and text him since the breakup, but it’s like you said, his phone’s been off. He hasn’t read a single message I’ve sent him. I-I can prove it.”
Sky did just that and pulled out her phone, pulling up her texts first. I silently bared my teeth to hide my anger.
Why the fuck was she trying to contact him?
It didn’t matter. Brian was missing, and I bet over a million bucks I knew exactly who was responsible for his disappearance.
But why hide it? Why didn’t Rhett tell me—
Oh, my fucking God.
The truth smacked me hard across the face, and I frankly couldn’t believe I hadn’t figured it out sooner. This wasn’t just about Sky and what Brian did to her. It was the photos, too.Me.
Fuck, Rhett. What did you do?
“We can see you’re telling the truth.” Officer Scott handed Sky her phone, then blew out a sigh. “If you can think of anything else or end up hearing from Brian, please give us a call. We’ll be back if we have more questions.”
Twenty
Phantom
Isatdownatmy computer desk Tuesday night, installing the last of the software Kaden needed on my old laptop. He’d messaged me the other day and told me all about how his computer had been hacked and how his whole hard drive was fried to shit. There was nothing wrong with my old computer. It’d just been sitting in my closet collecting dust. I’d planned on selling it anyway, so I decided to take advantage of Kaden’s outcry and use it as a business opportunity.
Isaac had gone to meet up with Sharkey to gather the last of the materials we needed for Saturday’s trial. And Rhett...Fuck, Rhett.He hadn’t been acting like himself. He hadn’t been in classes,and I think he’d been crashing at the house since he hadn’t been returning to the dorm at night. I imagine he and Isaac’s little tiff in the dining hall had something to do with that.
We weren’t due to meet this Reaper crew until Friday, but with all this superfluous bullshit going on, I needed the distraction. Something to keep my mind busy so that I wasn’t thinking about…
God damnit.
And here I go again, doing that exact fucking thing.
I blew out an exasperated sigh and pushed my old computer to the side, resting my elbows on top of my desk so I could rub my temples in an attempt to halt the raging, stress-induced headache trying to fester. Heat licked up my back, and the more I tried to force myself to not lose my fucking shit, the more it pissed me off and made me want to fuck shit up even more.
Breathe, Phantom.
In. Out. In. Out.
It didn’t work.
In a flash, I’d sprung to my feet and proceeded to kick the side of my desk as hard as I fucking could. The impact left a deep and ugly crack splintered across the wood.
My phone started ringing just as I was about to drive my fist into the wall. The red dots invading my vision leisurely withered when I blinked down at Cindy’s name flashing on the screen.
Cindy…
Thank fucking God.
“Hey killer,” she greeted me, sounding happy and giddy like always. “Haven’t heard from you in a while. How’s everything—”
“Are you still at the shop?”
“I left about ten minutes ago. Why? Do you need me?”
“Yes.” I blew out a hard breath, hating how desperate I sounded, but I needed to get the fuck out of this place before I lost my mind. “I think a little bit of ink therapy is exactly what I need.”
“Emphasis on the therapy part, right?” She giggled, which made me roll my eyes. “OK, bud, I’m popping a U-turn now.”
