Page 263 of Chaos Kills

The space is toward the back of the house, abandoned from use, and it gives me a few minutes to gather myself together before having to go back out to the party and make it look like I give a shit about Elaine and whatever it is she has to say.

Pushing off the wall, I stride across the room, finding myself pacing a large brownish-gold rug a few seconds later because I can’t get my mind off the hamster wheel of these past couple of weeks.

I’m about to sit on a Titan seat and appear like I know what the hell I’m doing. A power position that can seriously kiss my entire ass. All because of Penn Northcott—that idiot. Why the hell he decided to create this shit with several other towns is beyond me. I get the community aspect behind it, but dude, eventually some asshole was going to get greedy and want more.

And it just had to be my sperm donor.

It had to come with four other dudes and my best friend getting caught up in this shit, too. A vicious cycle that’s on its second trip around a generation where it’s not getting any easier and the lines of truth are getting blurrier.

I bit off a little more than I can chew.

The wooden floor underneath me whines at a certain spot at the far side of the wall where a bunch of books sit forsaken on a bookshelf. I didn’t notice the picture frames sitting there, a family of four—mom, dad, and two kids, a boy and a girl—looking happily at the person who took the photo in front of a giant house.

This house.

Picking up the brass-colored frame, I examine the two children, both fair-haired and they’re…twins.

A boy and girl, each with one parent’s hand on their shoulders as they stand shoulder to shoulder with each other.

Reeve…and Rosalie.

Glancing up at the door where he just disappeared minutes ago, so many questions filter through my brain when a loud bang suddenly sounds from behind me, jolting me forward before whipping around to see what the hell just crashed behind me.

Everything is still in place.

No hanging pictures have fallen, all the books are still sandwiched in between each other, but it sounds like something hit the wall.

I’ve had nothing to drink tonight. I haven’t even smoked a blunt or taken a happy pill.

I know I heard something.

“Hello?”

Yeah, now you’re talking to yourself.

Taking a cautious step back toward the bookshelf as if it’s going to grow arms and latch on to me, I carefully listen for something else to show me it’s not my imagination.

I hear nothing.

Placing the picture frame back in its appropriate spot, I’m about to leave the room when I hear a faint knock along the back of the wall again.

I’m not imagining things.

“Hello?”

Another knock.

Shit.

Pivoting, I sprint from the room to find Cairo or Ozzy. I’m not sure what fucking freakshow this house is, but I’ve seen horror movies and hidden rooms, staircases and shit.

Someone is behind that bookshelf.

I’m immediately in the midst of a heavy throng of people once I get down the hallway as I search to find the two men as quickly as possible.

Ozzy would be in a corner somewhere, so I start there, walking around the edge of the room that’s more like a palace ballroom than a living space. I hit all four corners before giving up and looking for Cairo.

But instead, I find Torin with a redhead pressed into his side as she whispers something in his bad ear.

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