OLIVIA #2
The others were already seated at the dining table when we walked in, their voices dropping to a hush. I was surprised to see various items in the center of the table, like they’d shaken out the pockets of the mansion itself.
Jax took the head spot but didn’t sit. His shoulders were bunched tight near his ears.
Like him, I was also too restless to sit, so I leaned against the wall by the door.
Madoc stood on the opposite wall, watching me with his unfathomable eyes.
Slowly, without breaking his intense gaze, the bastard took out my knife and flipped it lazily in his hand.
It was the giant red head, Callum, who broke the silence. “Playroom that bad, huh? What did the old dog have in there?”
Jax waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing. Standard shit. Nate?”
I almost missed the way Nate flinched, head bowing, hair falling into his eyes. When he didn’t speak, Madoc kicked the back of his chair hard. Nate went rigid, as if hit by an electric shock. “I found merch.”
Merch?
“Drugs,” Jax supplied automatically. He wasn’t looking at me.
My stomach clenched. That wasn’t what I expected. A grim tension filled the room. Then Zola snorted, breaking it.
“Relax. It’s not heroine,” she said with an eye roll. She was holding a tablet and tapping away on it distractedly. “It’s a drug called Montroploze. It was used to treat severe insomnia and anxiety before it got banned. Dangerous side effects.”
“Let me guess.” Ryle’s smile was a little strained as he tried to lighten the mood. “Anal bleeding? It’s always anal bleeding.”
“Actually, no,” Zola said. “More like memory loss, psychosis, temporary paralysis. And that’s just page one.”
“Where did you find it?” I asked, my voice breathy with a hope that I couldn’t squash.
Zola looked at me dead-eyed. “In his medicine cabinet. Where else?”
“How much did you find?”
Zola used her finger to push a small, clear vial across the table.
“Single use,” Zola said. My heart sank. For a moment, it felt like something, but I knew I was probably grasping at straws.
I eyed the rest of the items: a shopping list, some books, a long cord with weird prongs at the end—a whip, I realized with a flush, my eyes automatically bouncing to Madoc, the whip inspector.
I felt a bolt of awareness when I found him still looking at me. Smiling that unnerving smile.
He was definitely unhinged.
Zola spoke again, thankfully drawing my attention. She waved a tablet in front of her. “Found this squashed between a sofa cushion on the top floor. Dumbo here thought it was a high-tech TV remote.”
Nate grinned dopily at the nickname. He must be Scooby.
“Well, what is it?” Jax asked, leaning forward, his hands braced on the table. I tried not to ogle his muscled forearms or the swell of his impressive biceps.
“It might as well be a remote,” Zola said, clacking her nails across the screen. “I managed to override his password, but so far I’ve found nothing but porn, online shopping browsers, and some calendar reminders to take his medication.”
Awareness zapped up my spine. “Is that drug on it? The Monopoly one?”
“No,” Zola said with a derisive look. “It’s not prescribed to him. It’s more like a free sample, the kind pharmaceutical companies push on GPs.”
“Were there any others?” Jax asked, clearly directed at Nate.
He jolted again, shooting Madoc a nervous look over his shoulder. Madoc bared his teeth in warning. “N-No. Just some painkillers and old heart pills.” Nate hesitated, clearly wary. “I was just being thorough, Jax. I wasn’t…I wasn’t looking for anything. Honest.”
Jax stared at him for a long minute, not saying anything. It didn’t seem to matter because Nate cringed and hunkered down in his chair like a scolded school boy. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin somehow both pale and splotchy.
Jax sighed and rubbed his forehead as if warding off a headache. Gone was the playful deviant. He’d slipped back into the role of grouchy leader with a short fuse. Weirdly enough, I wanted the deviant back.
Forcing myself to look away from him, I spotted my backpack slung over the back of Callum’s chair. I reached for it eagerly, surprising the big man who leaned forward so I could slip it off. My fingers groped the pockets, and I breathed a sigh when I felt the hard ridge of my phone.
At least Madoc hadn’t confiscated that.
Returning to the wall, I discreetly opened the hidden zip and glanced at my phone. With a soft tap of my finger, the screen lit up. Two missed calls.
Shit. I’d missed check-in. I needed to call him back before everything went to hell. I needed—
A rush of air, and a knife embedded in the wall by my head.
I cried out and ducked instinctively. My eyes searched the room and landed on the slow, pleased smile that slithered over Madoc’s face.
The asshole had thrown a knife at me?
My knife?
“What’s in the bag, princess?” he purred.
The room watched tensely.
“You’re a psychopath!” I hissed, straightening. The knife had struck mere inches from my ear. I glanced at Jax in disbelief. He just looked amused, like we were putting on a dinner show. This evening’s entertainment—my brain splattered on the wall.
“It’s nothing,” I spat at Madoc, who started to advance. I tried not to cringe into the wall like a cornered animal. “You already took everything.”
Madoc stopped in front of me. Venomous green eyes searched my face. Then he shrugged, like he didn’t care either way, and reached up to pluck the knife from the wall.
Was this all just a game to him?
I clutched my backpack tightly and spun to the door. “Bathroom,” I shot at Jax, not caring if he approved or not. No one stopped me, so I figured I was safe and fled to the furthest bathroom I could find.
As soon as the door locked shut behind me, I took out my phone and returned the call.
“Olivia. Finally.” His warm, British accent was music to my ears.
I sagged in relief. “Preacher.” My heart twisted, tears prickling at my eyes. “You are not going to believe who I found.”