39. Gio
39
GIO
S weat coats my face, slides down my temple inside my helmet. Despite the temperatures and my lack of a coat on the field, I am burning up. My muscles, some of them still achy from disuse, strain with the effort I put in. The next call for line up happens and I station myself across from a somewhat familiar face.
Brandon Pillard. The prick ducks his head, avoiding eye contact like the pussy he is, but my attention is locked on him. It’s not about the game and it’s not about winning. It’s about getting a little revenge for Prep Girl.
“Your ass is grass, Pillard,” I say. “I hope you aren’t planning to play in college because you may not play again after tonight.”
His head jerks up and shock covers his expression. I laugh. “Y-you can’t threaten?—”
“Down!” Nolan barks out the word. All the linemen lower into place. “Ready, set!” We go still and I grin. “Hut, hut!”
The ball switches hands and our wide receiver takes off. I slam forward, grinding Pillard back a few feet as Nolan backs up and the ball goes flying.
“Fucker!” Pillard punches out and I wince as he catches my ribs, but I don’t let go. I bodily lift the asshole and slam him down onto his back, my hand snapping out and sucker punching him right in the gut. The wheeze of his air escaping is music to my ears. But it’s not enough. When he rears up and loses his shit, trying to punch me in my face despite the helmet, I laugh and quickly knock his ass back into the dirt.
“Dirty play, bitch,” I snap. Before waving a hand to one of the referees.
“Pillard, sidelines, now!” The Silverwood Prep coach screams. When I look up, the other man’s face is a molted red hue with perspiration shining under the hot lights of the football field on his balding forehead.
“Yeah, Pillard,” I say. “Back to the sidelines where you belong. Next time it might be more than a bruised ego.”
“You fucking?—”
One of the Silverwood Prep team members cuts between us and directs Pillard in the opposite direction. Behind me, Nolan speaks up.
“He say shit?” I turn to find Nolan’s glare on the back of Pillard’s head.
“Nope.” I shrug. “I just hate looking at his ugly mug.”
Nolan hums and I turn towards the stands to see what Prep Girl thinks of—I frown. Madison Torres sits at the front of the bleachers, snapping a few shots with her camera, but the seat next to her is empty. My gaze moves up to where I thought I’d seen Roquel at the beginning of the game, but she’s sitting with a group of girls and none of them are Juliet.
“Where the fuck is Juliet?”
Nolan spins and follows my gaze. “She’s probably in the bathroom,” he says.
“Don’t girls go in packs or something?” I ask.
My question is never answered, but it doesn’t matter anyway because the broadcaster calls out across the field, announcing halftime. It’s the perfect time to find out for myself. I wave Lex over and the three of us head towards the front of the bleachers, bypassing Coach and ignoring his wave of summons as we make a beeline for Mads.
She lowers her camera to her lap with a frown when she realizes we’re approaching. Just as I’d done earlier, I drop my helmet to the floor of the bleachers and climb the rungs like a ladder until I’m half over the top.
“Where’s Juliet?” I demand.
Mads looks to the side and then frowns. “Uh, she went to the bathroom at the start of the game, but she should’ve been back by now,” she answers with a wince before turning back. “She seemed a little off—maybe she just went home?”
“She doesn’t have a key,” Nolan states.
“Cars?” I ask.
Lex turns away, jogging across the field towards the benches. No phones are allowed on the field, but he’s never far from his. Less than five minutes later, he’s back and scowling down at the screen. “She’s not here.”
“Where is she?”
Lex’s brow furrows. “She’s… on the move. Probably in a car.”
“She wouldn’t take one of ours,” I say.
Nolan snorts. “She’d steal our cars in a heartbeat,” he says. “Let's go see which one she grabbed.”
“Our cars are still in the lot,” Lex says. “Their trackers are still in place.”
“Then how…”
“Fuck.” Lex’s curse cuts off my words and before I realize it, he’s hauling himself up the bleacher rungs and taking off towards the parking lot. Nolan and I exchange a look.
“Tell Coach we had a family emergency,” Nolan orders Madison as he and I both leap up the bleachers and start running.
Something is not right.
* * *
LEX
She’s gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. The word spirals in my head like a twisted venomous little creature, snapping out and sinking sharp fangs into me every time it cuts into my mind. Is she running or has someone taken her?
As I run towards the parking lot, I type out a quick code to one of my self-made apps. Fucking Silverwood Public never has good CCTV, which is why I’d put up my own cameras several months back. The day that I found out Juliet Donovan was switching to our school, in fact.
Now, those cameras rewind and replay a horrific scene I never thought I’d see.
I stop dead in the center of one of the aisles—the clear emptiness of the lot not matching up with the video on my cell phone.
Two masked men. A single black van with tinted windows. A driver. Three people and Juliet. She never had a chance.
“Lex!” Nolan’s call restarts my body, and I turn to face him. He slows to a stop with Gio bringing up the rear and looks at me. “What is it? What’s happened? Did you find out where she went?”
I turn my phone around to show them the video. My heart hammers against the inside of my ribcage, threatening to break free even if it kills me. I’m going to find them—the men who took her—and I’m going to rip them apart. Piece by fucking piece. I’m going to slit their throats and bathe in their blood. I’ll string them up by their own intestines. Or… no, worse, I’m going to cut them.
I’ll start small, a little piece of skin here. A finger there. A toe. Then work my way inward, amputating each of their limbs until they’re nothing but a torso and a stump of a head. Then … I’ll flay their skin from their bones and go inward.
“Keys, keys, keys!” Gio is patting himself, looking but coming up empty. His eyes are wild, but nothing can compare to the riot of fear and fury that rages within me.
I dig into my pocket. They’d left their keys in the locker room, but just like my phone, I’d brought both onto the field and left them in a bag on the sidelines. I’m just glad I grabbed them along with my cell.
Gio holds his hands out as I toss them in his direction. “Drive fast,” I growl as we head for my SUV.
“We need guns.” Nolan’s voice pauses the two of us, and I turn back with a scowl. He stops me before I can speak. “Don’t you dare say there’s no time.”
“We have a few in the?—”
“Not enough.” His eyes are cold, almost glassy. He nods to the SUV. “Go. Text me the address. I’ll get what we need.”
Relief slips through me. He’s not stopping us. Then another thought crosses my mind and I glance to Gio. “If Darrio is behind this…”
Gio shakes his head. “There’s no love between my old man and me,” he replies to my unspoken warning. It’s not a question, but a promise. Whoever has taken what belongs to us will die tonight. And if they touch her… they’ll die slowly, painfully.
“Good.”
With that, Gio and I dive towards my SUV and Nolan turns back to the school and the football field.
Be okay, baby, I silently beg as I bark directions at Gio and he backs out of the parking space with a squeal of rubber on pavement. Please be fucking okay.