Chapter 23
ELLIE
“Reece?” I whisper-hiss, flying down the hall as fast as my legs can carry me.
The hallway seems to be never-ending, with numerous forks, rooms, and passageways for us to explore.
Reece could be in any of them.
“Reece?” I say again, this time softer. The last thing I want to do is draw attention to him if he’s nearby. I don’t see any of the other Paragon or Prosperity members, but that doesn’t mean they’re not nearby. Most left Kaila’s body as soon as the life dissipated from her eyes, but some…
I swallow down the rising tide of vomit.
“Do you have any idea where he would go?” Dom asks, his free hand curled into a fist by his side while the other clutches the dagger POP gave him. Tension lines the rigid muscles of his jaw and neck.
“I assume he wouldn’t be idiotic enough to remain near the entrance,” Zane responds. He lazily flips his bedazzled dagger in the air and catches it by the hilt.
“I don’t know him or this building well enough to answer that,” I tell Dom, ignoring Zane.
“Fuck. Right. That was a stupid question.”
“So, what do we do? Call his name until he answers or comes out of hiding?” Doubt seeps into Beckett’s voice.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“And what do you suppose we do when we find him?” Dom presses.
“I don’t know,” I repeat.
And I don’t.
All I know is that if I do nothing—if I allow innocent people to be slaughtered for POP’s sinister amusement—then I’ll be no better than the ones hunting them right now.
My father once said that the scariest type of people are those who choose ignorance.
They don’t actively seek to hurt others or hunt them down in a macabre game of hide-and-seek, but their self-interest and instinct for self-preservation give rise to a different type of evil—one that is subtle, almost unintentional, yet no less malicious.
There are three types of people, he told me. When you see the devil, you can join him, turn away, or simply hold his gaze. But if you do the latter, you become a witness, watching him commit unspeakable crimes but being powerless to stop him.
I refuse to merely stare the devil in the eye.
My dad forgot to mention a fourth type of person: the one who sees what the devil is doing and drives a knife into his heart.
A strange pang reverberates through me at the thought of my father.
All my memories of him—and my mother, for that matter—are tainted by the knowledge that they once were a part of POP.
Yes, they didn’t know exactly what the organization was doing, let alone the human-trafficking component, but they still helped create the website and app used to harm hundreds, if not thousands, of people.
They turned their backs on the devil, and look where that got them?
Someone screams from farther ahead, and my skin crawls at the haunting noise.
“Go!” I urge the others, breaking into a run.
We turn at a fork in the hall, then push open one of the doors.
The girl from before is lying on her back with a POP member straddling her hips. His dagger is pressed against her nipple.
“I’m going to enjoy doing this, bitch,” he rasps, leaning in even closer. The other three standing against the wall chuckle.
My guys don’t hesitate.
All three of them lunge forward, and within seconds, the POP members are lying on the ground, their necks broken.
I go for the fourth member, a battle cry catching in my throat.
He swipes at me with his blade—and I feel a brief stab of pain—but before I can focus on it, a furious Zane stabs him in the neck.
“Good fucking riddance.” Zane bares his teeth at the bastard and spits on his still form.
Good fucking riddance, indeed.
The woman scrambles to her feet in terror, attempting to put her body flush against the corner of the room. I drag my attention off the dead body and back onto her.
“Please. Please don’t.” She begins to sob.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” I whisper, my throat tightening at the horrific sounds escaping her.
This close, I can see her dirty blonde hair is caked with grime, and her face is sunken from hunger.
My heart plummets at the sight, bottoming through my stomach. “We’re not…we’re not a part of them.”
“Here,” Dom says, extending a cloak and mask he must’ve removed from one of the dead POP members. He carefully averts his gaze, offering her what little privacy he can. “Put this on.”
She volleys her gaze between me and the guys, confusion drawing her eyebrows together.
“What’s going on? Who are you people? Why aren’t you wearing a mask and cloak?” She hesitantly accepts the proffered clothing and begins to dress, the material swallowing her gaunt frame.
“I told you. We’re not a part of this,” I whisper.
“You just need to survive an hour.” Beckett anxiously glances in the direction we came from, a frown tugging at his lips. “But we need to go. Now. I think people are coming, and if they see the dead bodies…” He allows the words to taper off.
I notice, somewhat belatedly, that Dominic and Zane have removed the cloaks and masks of the other two POP members as well. They drape the fabric over their arms.
As I stare at the dead bodies, I wait for guilt to bombard me. Maybe even pity or sorrow.
Instead, all I feel is disgust.
These people are—or I guess, were—murderous scumbags. Their deaths were warranted. Good fucking riddance.
“What’s your name?” I ask, averting my gaze from the dead bodies. They don’t deserve a second more of my time.
The woman fiddles with the mask on her face, looking absolutely ridiculous in a cloak three sizes too big for her. “Lenny. Short for Lenora.”
“I’m Ellie,” I tell her briskly. “And these are my boyfriends—Zane, Beckett, and Dominic. You don’t know us, I get that, but I need you to trust us. We won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Lenny shuffles from foot to foot. “I… I don’t…” She audibly swallows before weakly saying, “Okay.”
“Then, let’s go.” I extend a hand to her, and surprisingly, she takes it.
We file into the hallway, then hurry farther down it, taking a sharp right, then a left, then another right. I realize we’re trying to get as far away from the bodies as we can.
I didn’t pay much attention when I first entered the hallway, but I notice now that everything is painted in shades of dark blue and white.
Sparse lighting—the glow more orange than white—illuminates the hall and rooms in intermittent intervals.
Cloying shadows cling to the corners, where the light can’t quite reach.
“How did you get here, Lenny?” I whisper as we turn at another fork in the hall. I have no idea where we’re going, but I’m trusting my guys not to lead us astray.
Lenny sniffles. “I…I don’t even know where here is. I’m from Canada. I was visiting San Francisco with my girlfriend.”
I startle at that. San Francisco is hours away.
Then again, Beckett discovered that POP was a nationwide organization, with members all throughout the country. They make sure not to kidnap victims from the same town or even the same state within a close time period, so as to not draw suspicion.
Oak Grove may be POP’s headquarters, but it doesn’t end here. Not even close.
“My…my girlfriend… She…” Lenny’s grip tightens around mine. “They killed her. They killed her in front of me. After they…after they…” She can’t get the words out past the tears.
I give her hand what I hope is a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to tell us.”
“They raped her. They raped us,” Lenny whispers, and my heart breaks at her confession, shattering. “They…they forced us to do things together while people watched. One time, she tried to fight back, and they…they…” She once again breaks off in heaping sobs.
I exchange a glance with my guys, and all their faces are hard as granite.
POP is going to pay for this.
My ears perk at the sound of fighting farther ahead—shouts, curses, grunts, and the telltale sound of flesh hitting flesh.
Dom’s lips straighten, compressing in a perfectly straight line, then he rushes forward.
I don’t know what I expect to see when I turn the corner, but it’s not…
It’s not this.
Five “lambs” were selected to play.
The fearless detective who sacrificed herself so the others had more time to hide.
Lenny, who still clutches my hand tightly.
Reece.
The crying man who broke into a run the second the game began.
And…
And the man with the dead eyes and dispassionate stare.
He still has those dead, impassive eyes, though his face is now coated in blood. So much blood.
Five bodies surround him, all lying in sickly red puddles.
“Robbie?” Lenny whispers, though her voice is too quiet for him to hear.
This man—Robbie—continues to breathe heavily, his apathetic gaze on the dagger in his hand. He must’ve stolen it from one of the POP members. He slowly lifts his gaze, and those deadened eyes land on me first. Then they shift to the side, focusing on Dominic, then Beckett, then Zane.
Finally, they lock in on Lenny, still disguised in the cloak and mask.
The change is instantaneous. Unbridled rage like I’ve never seen before distorts his face, and his eyes flare like the fires from hell itself have somehow portaled into those inky depths. He bares his teeth and takes a step closer, his dagger raised, rigid tension thrumming through his muscles—
“It’s me! Robbie, it’s me!”
He hesitates, confusion splaying across his face, one eyebrow arching until it practically disappears in his hairline.
“Lenny?”
“It’s me. Oh god.” Lenny pulls her hand free from mine and stumbles forward. Robbie breaches the short distance between them and pulls her into his arms, resting his cheek on top of her head.
“I thought you were dead,” Robbie whispers, his voice muffled from speaking against the cloak on her head.
Quickly, Lenny explains what happened, and Robbie listens without interruption. He only glances up once when Dom steps forward, extending the second cloak and mask.
Robbie takes it and quickly changes into it.
“Come with me,” Robbie tells Lenny, ignoring the four of us completely. It’s obvious he doesn’t trust us, and who can blame him? Anyone with eyes can see that all of them have been through shit I can’t even begin to comprehend. They’ve learned to rely only on each other.
“But…” Lenny glances helplessly in our direction.
“I think I found an escape,” Robbie continues, this time lowering his voice to a whisper, as if afraid we’ll overhear and try to stop them.
I hesitate, wanting to say something but knowing it’s not my place. I can’t force either of them to stay with us, even if I think it’s idiotic for them to travel on their own. They already had their free will stripped away more times than I care to count.
Dom says what I don’t dare to. “We shouldn’t separate.”
Robbie bares his teeth at Dominic. “We can’t stay with you four. She”—he gestures toward me, his scowl deepening, creating taut lines in his ragged face—“is the poster child for POP. The precious goddess. Do you really think we’ll remain incognito when we’re standing beside her?”
My heart and stomach sink simultaneously at the revelation that…he’s right. Aria painted a target on my back by declaring me as this ethereal, mythical goddess.
“Okay, you’re right,” I agree. “We’ll head in the opposite direction. Set up some fake leads, tell the members we saw you down there.”
“Thank you,” Lenny whispers, clutching Robbie’s hand like it’s the only thing keeping her tethered to reality.
Robbie doesn’t thank us, but he does give us a curt nod of acknowledgment as he slides the mask into place.
“Wait!” I say, lunging forward before they can take more than a few steps. “Reece Whipers…the man who was with you… Have you seen him?”
“No,” Robbie answers, and despite his gruff tone, I can tell he’s being honest with me. “I don’t think he came in this direction.” He tugs on Lenny’s hand, encouraging her to move. “Come on. We need to get moving.”
“Be careful,” I call to their retreating backs.
“You too,” Lenny says to me, her voice soft.
Robbie doesn’t respond.
I just pray they find a way out of here.
Or survive the next forty-five minutes.
I watch them go with a leaden, sinking feeling deep in my chest.
Finally, I turn back to my guys and whisper, “Let’s go.”
We do.