23.
“W ait, is that him?” Safiya says, stretching out an arm over the railing as she points at someone downstairs in the foyer.
I lean over a little as I survey the guests. “Where?”
She clicks her tongue and once again points at someone. “There – near that crazy-looking vase. Or whatever the hell that is.”
I frown as I look around, and finally spot a guy in the corner, next to a tall, black vase. His back is to me, so I can’t tell if it’s Timothy. His red hair, however, is the same as the target.
“I’m sorry, are you trying to check if you’re a descendant of Icarus, or have you finally lost your mind?” comes Solo’s voice. “Step back, kid, or you’ll embarrass us all by falling to your death in a foyer full of pearl-clutching upper classes.”
I glance to my left, and watch as he walks over to Safiya and I, looking both annoyed and tired.
“Is that him?” I ask Solo, nodding towards the guy Safiya had pointed out.
He looks at said guy, then quickly shakes his head. “Nope, not him.” He then glances over my shoulder and smiles. “Safiya.”
“Chris,” she greets him with a smile of her own.
“Did you guys find him yet?” Varsha questions as her and Alex make their way to us.
“Nope.” I face Solo. “What did the valets say?”
He leans his hip against the railing and crosses one ankle over the other.
“His car’s still here, but they haven’t seen him leave yet.
They said he didn’t show up to receive the delivery his father brought in, when he was clearly expected to be there.
And yeah, I checked his car. Looked pretty standard to me; nothing of importance that could help us track him. ”
“Wait, Fredrick is here?”
“Aras did say he brought in the delivery himself,” Varsha states. “Maybe he’s the one who got to his son first?”
I let go of a breath and run a hand over my jaw. “Did you check the room we last saw him enter?”
“That’s the first place we looked,” Alex provides. “Found nothing except for a few condom wrappers under the bed, and a bunch of burnt joints.”
“No wonder the room smelled so fucking bad,” I mumble, and as my eyes drift sideways, I find Magner and Aras jogging up the stairway with grim expressions on their faces.
Next to me, Safiya stiffens, and makes as if to leave, but I stop her by saying, “Please stay.”
She works her jaw as she stares at me, but then relents and gives me a quick nod, making sure to keep her attention on anything but Aras as he finally reaches us.
“Timothy is dead,” Magner announces, darkening our already sour moods.
It takes a few seconds for his words to register, and even though I knew what his fate was going to be, it’s still surprising to hear that he’s dead, especially since none of us here were the ones responsible for it.
“You sure?” I question.
“Positive.”
“And how, exactly, did that happen?”
Aras sighs, glancing briefly at Safiya before looking at me.
“No idea. But we saw a couple of the Byron security personnel dragging his, and another man’s body out of the back garden in the live CCTV footage.
My team is still working on fixing all the channels, but we were lucky they could get this one to work in time. ”
“Wait.” I swallow. “Cigs said she’s in the back gardens. She asked me to join her there a few minutes ago.”
“Where is she now?” Alex asks.
“I–” I stop when my phone pings in my pant pocket – once, and then a second time. With everyone watching me, I quickly pull it out, only to find two text messages from an unknown number flashing across the screen.
I click on them, and a sudden chill covers my face when I read the message that’s written under an attached video.
Unknown: At least I’m being courteous enough to grant her a chance, whereas she didn’t even think twice before killing my son. If you wish to see her alive, then come and find me.
My hand shakes as I press play on the video, and realize that I’m grinding my teeth so hard that it has caused my temples to throb in pain.
On the screen, Cignette is struggling against a guard who has her hands held behind her back.
There’s a white cloth stretched tight between her lips and wrapped tightly behind her head.
Her nose is bleeding, and there’s a bruised bump on her right temple.
Some of her hair is matted down and stained with blood and dirt, and her face is smudged with them as well.
Her eyes are red-rimmed, and it burns every fucking vein in my body to see her like this.
I know the others are watching the video with me, but somehow, I feel like I’m standing all alone; like I’m weightless and about to fall into an unending loop of my rage.
Cignette groans and jerks against the guard again, and he uses her defiance to his advantage by yanking at her hair to pull her back against him.
A man I’ve never seen before enters the frame, and cups her chin in a rough grip before pushing her face sideways.
There’s laughter in the background as she tries to pull herself out of the guard’s hold, followed by the screen suddenly going black.
My vision blurs, and my hands itch to cut open some flesh, just so I can cause these motherfuckers ten times the amount of pain they’re causing my Cignette.
“Where the fuck is this place?” I ask Aras. “Is this a part of your estate grounds?”
His expression is grave as he nods. “Yeah, it’s the–”
“It’s the area behind the life-size hedges in the back garden,” Safiya says.
Aras takes half a step forward and sneers at her. “You–”
Solo puts a hand on his chest to keep him in place. “Aras, please; this is not the time, and you know that.”
Aras grits his teeth as he glances at him, then relents and runs a hand over his hair. “We should get there before Fred…” he trails off and looks at me. “He’s a ruthless man, Ledger.”
My throat tightens, so much so that I can barely swallow my dread.
“If he takes her away from me, then I swear to you, Aras, I will unleash hell on this city,” I tell him.
“Fredrick Byron is about to learn that he messed with the wrong man, and before the night is over, he’ll have paid the price for each scar he’s left on her, physical or otherwise.
” Because I know she can cope with bodily wounds; it’s the thought of the mental scars this incident will leave her with that’s tearing me apart.
God, she kept telling me she wasn’t feeling good about tonight, and still, I didn’t listen to her. In my haze of wanting to get back to my old ways, I pulled her down with me.
There’s a knot in my stomach that keeps stretching at my core, and my shoulders feel paralyzed as the weight of the situation fully sinks in.
Cignette is in trouble, and I have not only the rest of my crew to handle, but also the problem itself.
And I’ve gotta keep my head in check. I can’t lose focus; I can’t get distracted.
Fuck… How will I ever be able to forgive myself for what I let happen to her, knowing I could have stopped it? Knowing I could have gone to her when she asked me to instead of making her wait?
I just…I can’t .
Please be okay, Cigs , I pray. Fucking please .