Chapter 42
RJ
Between her Thanksgiving break and missing our check-in last weekend after dealing with my dad for half the night, I haven’t heard from her in a while.
And while we can send messages back and forth with Clara now, I still want her perspective.
There’s so much going on in that house that coded missives and fifteen-second conversations with Trips before his guard asks him to keep moving can only convey so much.
And I wouldn’t put it past Clara to avoid telling us the worst of what she’s dealing with.
As I wait for her to reply, I open the invitation to the pedo party.
I got access by gluing myself to the digital footprint of one of Bryce’s old contacts, following him into the bowels of the dark web.
Today there’s updated information about the auction, as well as a lottery for the first choice of ‘dates’ with the underage girls.
The listing jokes it’s a test-ride, and I have to work hard not to vomit.
I can’t help but imagine one of my sisters caught in such an awful situation. It’s crazy, but I send out a quick message to each of them. I’ve been a shit brother for the past year. That’s not fair to them.
Hoping that Reed has seen the updated landing page, I toggle through the rest of the site, wishing the girls dolled up like models had someone to protect them besides me. They have no idea what they’ve signed up for.
Mattie finally responds, and I try to figure out what to say after so long.
Hey. Just checking in. How are things at the house?
Fine
This isn’t the chatty girl I’m used to. And I’m not sure if it’s me, or something else.
Sorry I’ve been MIA for the last few weeks.
It’s okay.
I’m not the best at reading people, but this feels weird. Wrong.
Are you okay?
I’m fine. Listen, I’ve got to practice, and then I want to sneak in some time with my boyfriend before winter break. I won’t be around for a while.
Sorry.
Alarm bells ring at her brush-off. This isn’t normal. If it weren’t for that last response, I’d think someone else had the phone.
As it is, I’m worried about Mattie. Standoffish and meeting with her secret boyfriend?
It doesn’t feel right. Now that I have access to the whole Westerhouse network, I went through her photos late one night and didn’t find a single one with her boyfriend in it.
Then I dug through her socials and texts.
I was lucky enough to catch a single message between the two of them before it was deleted—and the number relayed through the internet. Perfectly anonymous.
High school students aren’t known for that level of caution. Which makes me even more suspicious than I was a month ago.
I’m trying to figure out what to do about it when the doorbell rings. Walker thumps past my room, and I decide to follow, hoping distraction will let my brain settle on a plan of action.
I make it downstairs as he opens the door, cold air swirling around my feet as the guy who’s been our gopher waits on the porch, the hood of his jacket pulled up like he’s hiding. Walker waves off our friendly PI, then turns to the guy.
“I’ve got a message,” the guy says, looking around like somebody is watching.
“Then hand it over,” Walker says, rolling his eyes, no shits left to give.
The guy does, then hovers on the porch, the cold air sweeping in the longer we keep the door open. “Should I wait for a reply?” he asks as Walker stares at the code.
I force my voice to work, not liking this guy standing there looking suspicious. “No.”
He jumps, like he’s been so busy looking for trouble outside he missed me standing on the bottom step inside.
“Shit, you guys are like ninjas,” he whispers to himself as he turns around, half running down the steps as Walker shoves the door shut behind him.
A soft rustle behind me has me spinning, hands at the ready, catching sight of a flurry of black launching itself over the railing and into the hallway between Walker and me. I rush to take down the threat, but then the intruder speaks.
“A message from our girl?”
Halting my sprint with a hand on the wall and a slight shove of the intruder, I suddenly understand the ninja comment from our delivery man. “Damn it, Jansen. I almost took you out,” I half-yell.
Walker jerks up from the note, blinking in surprise at the thief looking over his shoulder.
“What the fuck? Where’d you come from?”
Jansen plucks the note from Walker’s hands, ignoring both of us. “I broke in through the attic window. I had to see if I still could do this stuff. So, what’s this say?”
“Jay,” I say, not really knowing where I’m going with my reprimand.
Another ring of the bell and I shove our thief into the living room before Walker opens the door again.
The same dude is standing there, looking a little sheepish. “I was going home, but then this other guy ran up, dropped this, and then ran off. I thought I should let you know it’s here.” Ripping the gold envelope from his hand as Walker curtly thanks the guy, we shut the door in his face.
Jansen comes back, his expression thoughtful, the note still in his hand. “She’s asking you not to add Bryce to the list. What list?”
“The list of liver donors,” Walker answers, yanking back the note and handing the card to me. I don’t want it any more than he does, but I open it anyway.
Inside is a wedding card. For a moment, before I open it, I have a stupid hope that it’s exactly what it appears to be, but I get a photo of all of us crowded together at Orchestra Hall instead.
Clara and Jansen share a kiss while Walker reaches forward, obviously getting ready to pull her to him, Trips and I watching with similar hopeful faces.
He used a gold Sharpie to match the card. “Forsaking all others? Not for this whore. What would Father say?”
Jansen reads over my shoulder this time. “Why is father capitalized?”
“Why is he still taunting her?” Walker groans. “She was gone for almost a year. She’s been here but inaccessible for months. And the only time we’re all together, he’s there and takes a picture? It doesn’t make sense.”
I shake my head. “I’ve been watching his phone. This photo wasn’t there. And this was weeks ago, not recent.”
“What about his second phone?” Jansen asks, pulling the photo from my grip and running a finger along the edge of Clara’s outline.
My stomach drops. “I haven’t had time to check that one.”
Walker looks up. “You’ve been busy. We can check now, see what he’s been up to.”
I swallow past my frustration with myself. “Yeah. I can do that.”
Walker reaches for the card, looking it over like it might have clues, as they trail me to my room.
“What are the chances he’s going to fuck up our plans?” Walker asks.
None of us wants to answer. Jansen asks what we’re all wondering, though. “He won’t be able to get into the wedding, will he?”
I want to throw the damn card away, to pretend that it isn’t another threat. “No, he won’t. Not with the security they have.”
“Unless he’s someone’s plus one,” Walker says, contradicting me.
I huff out a breath and shove open the door to my room, pulling up the data for the second phone Jansen found as the other two drag their chairs up behind me. And I immediately wish I’d looked at this sooner.
There are pictures of Clara, of us, but most of all, there are pictures of someone who never should have been in the bastard’s sights.
Red hair pulled into a tight French braid, fierce with her mask under one arm.
Laughing, cuddled close to the asshole, looking at him like he’s a goddamn king.
Half-naked in the back seat of a car, the shot obviously taken without her knowing.
Videos that I don’t have the stomach to open.
Mattie. Picture after picture, video after video of Mattie.
“Oh God,” I mutter.
Walker tosses the card onto my desk. “Where is he?” His voice is calm, but it’s the kind of calm that makes the hair on the back of my neck raise.
“That dirty fucking nasty pedophiliac prince of jackass shit-stains,” Jansen bites out.
I spin slowly to look at him, knowing that he’s not much for cursing. Walker does the same.
“What? That’s exactly what he is. That and more,” he states.
I turn back to my screen, my hands in fists. Jansen cursing isn’t what’s important right now. “Field trip?” I ask, knowing without checking the Airtags we planted exactly where that monster is right now.
The other two nod, and two minutes later, we’re in Walker’s SUV on our way to the fencing gym.