I look around the room and the furniture it contains. The bed’s frame is metal. I could maybe dismantle it and strike the glass, but for one, I’m too weak to stand. I’d need so much more strength to deliver a blow that could even crack the glass. But also, I know that even at my strongest, the glass is too thick. It’d be like using a toy hammer on an iceberg in Antarctica.
I really am trapped.
I do my best to fight off the feeling of the walls closing in. I try to calm the same panic I had all those years ago when myworld came crashing down. I feel just as weak and helpless now as I did back then. After years of taking lives, I thought I’d feel so much more powerful, but here I am. A scared eighteen-year-old girl once more. Waiting for death.
I climb back into the bed, feeling like a zoo animal on display, even though there’s no one else here.
Eventually, I drift off and fall into a heavy slumber yet again. I have no idea how long I’ve slept, but when I wake, there’s a tall glass of ice water sitting on the nightstand beside the bed.
TWENTY-EIGHT
LANCE
“I knowit doesn’t look good,” I breathe out. “But there’s no way in hell you guys believe Cricket did this…right?”
I’m in the meeting room with Callen, Linc, Eden, and Vesper. We’re missing one today. I haven’t heard from Cricket for three days since she told me to meet her in the break room, but never showed. It’s too long not to hear from her. Even if she got Gabriel out of the country without the passports and cash, she should’ve been back by now.
After days of worry and confusion, Cricket is not back in my arms like she promised. Instead, I’ve been summoned into work by Vesper, who called us into the meeting room to show us a very incriminating picture.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Luca Accardi. He’s dead, with his throat slit so deep, his head is nearly severed. That’s not particularly bothersome. I would’ve done even worse to the man who raped and assaulted my soon-to-be bride. The disturbing part is the name carved into his forehead: Fiona’s name.
Wrinkles are cut across Callen’s forehead as he studies the image strewn in front of us with dismay. Eden’s hand is over her mouth as she tries to look anywhere but at the picture.She’s been with us for over half a year, but she still has a weak stomach for the violence. Linc, sitting right next to me, has his arms folded across his chest. His brows are cinched together in anguish. On the other side of the table, Vesper’s shoulders are tense and squared back, while her eyes are fixed on her folded hands. It looks like she’s contemplating, which pisses me off, because what is there to contemplate?
Cricket was set up. She’s in danger.
“Well, speak up, for fuck’s sake.Anybody,” I bark.
“Lance,” Callen says calmly, holding his hands out flat. There’s a tense grimace fixed on his face. “Vesper just got this image ten minutes ago. We need a minute to absorb what this looks like.”
“What exactly does it look like?” I ask through a clenched jaw.
“We can’t say it wasn’t justified,” Linc offers in a hushed tone. “What Luca did to her… I’ll never forget what she looked like the day we found her. He tortured her for weeks.” Linc nods to the picture. “He bled out in minutes. I’d say she was merciful.”
“And I’m saying she didn’t do it,” I say through a clenched jaw.
“Lance, when was the last time you talked to Cricket?” Eden asks.
“We reconciled a few nights ago. She called the next morning saying Gabriel was in danger and she was getting him out of the country.”
“Gabriel was in a news article this morning. He made an appearance at the local university yesterday. He donated ten million dollars to the campus last year, and they invited him to cut the opening ribbon on the new library. He’s most definitely still in the country.”
I close my eyes and breathe out in a heavy exhale. “The timing isn’t great, but I know Cricket didn’t do this and runaway. How about some fucking loyalty from the ones who love her, huh?”
“We’re not being disloyal, Lance,” Eden says in a pleading tone. “We’re just trying to understand.”
My gaze snaps to Vesper, who is still staring blankly at her hands. “There’s an easy way to prove me right. Cricket’s tracker,” I say. “Turn it on.” We should’ve done that days ago.
Vesper closes her eyes and slowly shakes her head side to side. “There’s no tracker, Lance.”
“What?”
“I wanted Cricket to think I was keeping track of her. To dissuade her from something like this”—Vesper points to the printed-out picture lying in the middle of the table—“but I don’t know where she is.”
My heart beats in pounding thuds as a wave of dread overcomes me. I thought Vesper would always be able to find Cricket. That’s why I felt safe. It was the only thing holding me back, knowing that she was still in reach. But now…
“Cricket’s tough, Lance. She can hold her own. She’s okay.” Callen attempts to console me, but it’s not working.
“Linc,” I mutter, my eyes wide and unblinking.