Chapter 30
THIRTY
My phone wakes me at three.
I have to struggle my way out from under Ash to reach it, and when I see it’s Harley, I answer immediately. My heart in my throat.
“What’s happened?” I whisper, not wanting to wake Ash if it’s nothing serious.
The line stays quiet, I can hear a rhythmic rustling, a sort of swishing noise, but nothing to tell me what the hell is going on. I sit and just listen for a second, and realize his phone is in his pocket and the noise is the sound of his pants as he walks.
I’m on edge immediately.
Why is he walking around at this time? Why has he called me only to put his phone in his pocket? Butt dialing isn’t really a thing anymore, is it? Is he in danger?
What the fuck has happened in the last three hours?
I keep the phone to my ear and climb over Ash, the deepest sleeper out of all of us, and he barely mumbles as my weight hits his chest. I grab his phone and then use his finger to unlock it, like some creepy stalker girlfriend but fuck it, this feels like an emergency.
I fucking hope it’s not an emergency.
Dialing Illi’s number, I’m almost choking on my panic.
“What’s happened?” he answers, an echo of my own worry.
I barely recognize my own voice. “Do you still have eyes on Arbour? Something is wrong.”
Illi grunts and starts to move. The swishing noise in the other phone stops, and a door opens and then shuts.
He swears low and colorful under his breath.
“He’s just taken a girl into his room, kid.
Fuck. He’s clearly fucking wasted, she’s practically holding him up, but cheating’s fucking cheating.
I didn’t fucking see him doing this, he’s so fucking taken with you.
Fuck. You need me to kill him? I can do it with a bullet, nice and quick if you feel squeamish about it,” Illi says, gentle in a way I didn’t know he had in him.
But fuck that.
I know Harley and I fucking trust him.
“No killing, no matter what. Go and get a look at what the fuck is happening in that room.”
Ash grunts and his eyes open, an arm winding around my waist before his eyes even open. He blinks up at me and frowns when he sees his phone at my ear. I cut him a look and, thankfully, he keeps his mouth shut.
“Right. I’m outside the room and— FUCK!”
The booming sound of a door being kicked in startles Ash and he sits up, his arm keeping me stable on top of him.
“What the fuck?” he mouths at me, and I swallow roughly.
“Harley,” I croak, my eyes welling up, and Ash can’t contain the vicious curses that spill out of his mouth.
He sets me down on the bed and starts pulling his clothes on, yelling for Blaise and Avery. I can’t move. I can’t do anything until I know Harley is alive and safe. Whatever the fuck has happened, I’m frozen until I know he’s okay.
But the second I know he is, someone is going to fucking bleed tonight.
Through Harley’s phone, I can hear screaming and sobbing. I recognize it immediately and look up to find the others, dressed and ready, waiting for me to tell them what the fuck is going on.
“Annabelle fucking Summers. I don’t know what’s happened, but Illi’s there and she’s sobbing,” I croak, and Avery collapses on the bed next to me. Her eyes are wide and when she tucks her arm into mine, I can feel the tremble running through her.
“Call 911, you dumb fucking slut!” Illi roars, and Harley’s phone makes a scratching noise before the line goes dead.
Holy fucking shit.
Avery’s shoulders shake and Ash yanks her up off the bed as Blaise pulls me to stand. I protest, I don’t want to hang up, but he maneuvers me into a pair of yoga pants. Then he hoists me into his arms and carries me like I weigh nothing.
“We’re going to him. Tell me once you know where the ambulance is taking him.”
I nod and he sets me back onto my feet in the elevator. Avery is taking deep, shuddering breaths, and Ash is scowling, his hands clenching.
It takes us over an hour to find out which hospital Harley is taken to and to get there, even though Blaise drives like a fucking maniac the entire way.
I can’t think, or breathe, or function. My mind just keeps playing Illi’s voice over and over again, the urgency when he screamed for Annabelle to call 911.
The dread in my gut has grown, spread down through my limbs until I walk into the hospital lobby on numb legs.
Only Blaise’s strong arm banded around my waist keeps me upright.
Avery snarls at the reception staff until they tell us Harley is in the emergency room. My brain sort of shuts off after that, like a rage blackout except I can see Avery nodding and taking in all the information for me while I freak the fuck out. Then we’re directed to the waiting room.
Illi is already there, vomit and blood covering his clothes.
I almost pass out at the sight of him.
Then he turns to me with such fucking sorrow, for a second I want to punch him. Maybe it’s that spark of fire but he nods at me. “This way, kid. I’ve got what you need in here.”
I stupidly think he’s taking me to see Harley, but no. He directs me over to a supply cupboard and jiggles the door until the lock pops. Inside, Annabelle goddamn Summers is hogtied. All trussed up like a turkey for our Thanksgiving, and what good luck because I’m going to fucking carve her up.
Illi motions me in and then I block everything out, every sound, sight, and smell while I stare down the pathetic whore who’s tried to take Harley from me. If he dies… no. I can’t even think about it. He’s going to live. He has to.
I step forward and yank the gag out of her mouth, watching with grim satisfaction as she tries to swallow and winces.
“What the fuck did you do to him?” There’s nothing human left in my voice.
She whimpers pathetically.
“Tell me,” I say, and she sneers at me, all the fake simpering vanishing like the manipulative skank she is.
Eclipse Starbright Anderson ceases to exist. I don’t know who takes her place, because the Wolf has nothing on the deadly rage that takes over me.
I stay completely aware as I pin Annabelle to the wall by her throat.
I watch with a detached sort of fascination when her eyes light up with terror and, as my hands tighten around her neck, her face darkens until she looks almost purple.
My fingers only squeeze harder.
I don’t notice the argument happening behind me until a large, colorful hand wraps around my wrist and a broken voice croons softly in my ear, “Let go, Star.”
I shake my head. I’ll never fucking let her go again.
She dies today.
“She can’t speak if she’s dead,” he says calmly, and my grip loosens a fraction. I must have spoken that thought out loud.
Her eyes are still bulging as she sucks in air, and she fixes her gaze over my shoulder like she always fucking does. No one else matters to this fucking despicable, money-hungry whore but the guys she’s fixated on. My fucking guys.
“Blaise, please—” she gurgles, and he cuts her off.
“Just get the facts out of her so we can get back to Arbour. That’s where we need to be, babe.”
Babe. Only Harley ever calls me that. My lip threatens to wobble, but it’s like my emotions are just out of reach. Annabelle’s eyes stay glued to Blaise like I’m not even there, pinning her to the wall by her throat. I can’t get what I need like this. She won’t look at me with Blaise in the room.
“I’ll get the truth. You should go.”
Blaise moves his hand from my wrist to my hip, covering my body with his own until I’m surrounded by him. “I’m not leaving you with this cunt. I don’t care what you do to her; I’m with you.”
Annabelle starts fucking crying, and I can’t contain my snarl at her. “She won’t focus with you in the room. She’ll just spout her usual fucking lies.”
Blaise grunts and shifts on his feet like he’s going to put up a fight. Illi speaks up from the doorway. “Go on, kid. I’ll watch your girl and you can go help the other one watch over the Crow’s little ice queen. Nothing will touch her with me around, I’ll see to it.”
When the door clicks shut, Illi speaks, “The doctors said he was dosed with ketamine. A dirty batch.”
This fucking cunt.
I stare her down but there’s no remorse in her. “So you were going to rape him?”
She scoffs at me. “Girls can’t rape guys!
I just needed him to forget about you and your fucking magical slum pussy for an hour and then we could be together again.
Everything was finally working out; he has his money and we could be together without the other two.
How the fuck was I supposed to know the pills would do this? ”
She’s dead.
The second I have the story out of her, I’m gutting her. Nice and slow. Cleanup will be a bitch but, fuck it, I’ll call in a favor and the Bear can pin it on some underling of his. While I’m plotting her disembowelment, she continues on her little rant until something she says pings in my memory.
“What dealer?”
She sputters to a stop. “What? Some guy. What does it matter? He was from the slums like you and gave me the pill in a little bag.”
Slums.
The Bay.
My voice shakes. “Show me.”
“What?”
“Show me the fucking bag!” I hiss at her.
She fumbles around in her pocket before dropping the little clear bag on my palm. I know it’s the Jackal’s before I turn it over and see his insignia. Even with Illi taking out the stream of underlings the Jackal hired, he’s still found a crack in our defense.
I stare at her, long enough that it finally dawns on her that she’s utterly defenseless, hogtied in a closet with a murderous girl and her thug-looking mountain of a friend.
She’s fucked.