Chapter 13 – Grey #2
Rook glared after me when I walked out of the elevator. I could feel his wrathful gaze boring holes into my back. “You didn’t think you should mention this sooner? Give her a protection detail?”
“I did.”
“Axel was fucked,” Rook argued. “He wouldn’t have been able to stand up to a strong wind, never mind this sadistic motherfucker.”
“I didn’t know if I was right,” I admitted, keeping my eyes trained ahead. “I still might not be.”
Corvus dragged me back with a rough grip on my shoulder. “You should’ve fucking told us.”
This time, I did meet his stare. “I know.”
Rook knocked Corv’s hand from my shoulder, giving him a warning glance before turning his black eyes back to me. “You fucking tell us if you think you know something. I don’t give a shit how stupid you think it is. Hear me?”
“Yeah, Bro. I hear you.”
“So.” Corvus sighed. “You think she managed to draw him before he got to her?”
I shook my head. “Not draw. Paint. But no, I didn’t think she had. Not until I went to check on her at the hospital and found dried paint on her palm.”
I could see the same hope I felt mirrored in their tired expressions.
Rook all but ran past me, clearing the distance to AJ and Becca’s room, not wasting another second.
We followed him into the apartment, through the living room and across to Becca’s room. He shoved the door in and set to work.
“Paint,” he called after tearing back the comforters on her bed. Smudges of varying colors stained her light duvet. Dirty paintbrushes scattered to the floor.
I lifted a pad of watercolor paper from the floor, fingering a torn bit at the top. “A sheet’s missing.”
“Fuck!” Corvus kicked the side of her espresso finished dresser, denting in the wood. “He took it.”
I shook my head. No.
My blood cooled in my veins, dread hollowing my gut. “No. No, we don’t know that. Keep looking.”
Rook snatched the pad of paper from my grasp, the hope in his eyes replaced by deep shadows.
I stole it back. “Keep. Looking.”
His dead eyes told me he’d already lost hope, but he gave me a terse nod anyway. Rook didn’t care about much, but the things he did, he cared about fiercely. With no reserve. Giving up was never an option when it came to us, and it wouldn’t be with our girl, either.
Rook began going through her nightstand drawers while I rifled through lacy panties and bras in her dresser. I didn’t think Corvus would help at first, but as we worked, tearing through every inch of the bedroom, he became too uneasy to stand still and stomped into the bathroom to check there.
Rook paused when he pulled out the bottom drawer on the right hand side of Becca’s bed and I rushed over, my heart jump started back to life. “What is it? Did you find?—”
My words died on my lips at the absolute fucking arsenal of sex toys in the drawer.
Every shape and size of vibrator and dildo.
Anal beads. Butt plugs. Some weird device shaped like a rose.
A whip. Fucking rope. And at least five different kinds of lube.
All organized and lined up in categories and size order.
“ Damn ,” Rook said on a breath. “That’s quite the collection. He fingered a ball gag from the pile, and I swatted it out of his hand.
“ Dude ,” I chastised, slamming the drawer shut. “Keep looking.”
He shook his head, brows lifting as he set back to work, moving on to the desk against the wall.
I turned from where I stood, surveying the room. The dresser, bed, and nightstands we’d already checked. Where else could she have hidden it?
Please. Please tell me you hid it.
I’d tear the entire fucking room apart before I gave up on this.
I texted Diesel again, just in case she’s shown up at Sanctum, even knowing damn well he’d have called one of us on the spot.
My gaze tracked over the floor, the window hung with heavy draping curtains next to her bed. The large self-portrait on the wall. The bookshelf.
The portrait…
It wasn’t hung perfectly straight. Even though most other things in the room were lined up in neat rows. Precisely placed.
A smudge of brownish paint marred the otherwise flawless deep purple wall just next to it.
Emotion, raw and hot rose in my chest, and I covered a shaky exhale with my palm. “Holy fucking shit.”
I was right.
I was right.
A tremor of harrowing worry ricocheted up my spine at what that meant. At the realization that Ava Jade was definitely not safe.
“What is it, man?” Rook asked, coming to stand next to me, his black eyes tracing the painting.
“The fuck are you two looking at?” Corvus demanded, standing in the doorframe of the bathroom.
Without a word, I walked forward and lifted the painting off the wall, flipping it around. There, jammed haphazardly into the back of the canvas framing was a lone piece of watercolor paper.
I slipped it from the frame, my stomach in my throat. Corvus and Rook crowded beside me as I flipped it over.
“Is that…” Corvus trailed off, his voice dripping malice.
“It is.”
Rook tore the page from my hand to bring it closer to his twisted face, his dead-eyed composure slipping before it fled entirely. He threw the page away and stormed for the door. “He’s mine .”