Page 29 of Deceit & Destruction

“Is Cassie in class?”

“Class was cancelled.”

Dread churns in my gut and before I even realize it, I’m running across the lawn in the direction of the lecture hall. I don’t disconnect the call so I can faintly hear Webber calling for me, asking what’s wrong, but I can’t bring myself to say what I fear. I pick up the pace, drawing attention of everyone around me.

When I finally reach the lecture hall, I nearly collide with Webber.

“What the hell is going on?”

I brace myself, trying to catch my breath.

“Cassie’s not answering her phone. She told me she was headed to this class. She would’ve told me if it were canceled.”

We charge into the building together, and I follow Webber to the lecture hall and sure as fuck the room is empty.

“Robinson.”

I turn around as Webber bends and lifts Cassie’s phone.

“Maybe she doesn’t realize she dropped it.”

I shake my head.

My gut doesn’t buy that theory.

Neither does my heart.

~*~

Naturally my first instinct was to go to Blackthorne, but there was something I needed to do so I could fight for my girl fairly. Reaching into my back pocket I pull out tactical pocketknife. I started carrying it after Cassie moved.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Webber asks.

“I’m not doing shit. You’re going to cut this cast off me.”

His eyes widen and he stares at the knife in my outstretched hand.

“Are you fucking crazy?”

“I gotta go after Blackthorne and I can’t do that with one fucking arm, man. I’d cut it off myself, but I don’t have a lot of strength in this hand to cut through the fiberglass.”

“We don’t even know if Blackthorne has her. Let’s calm down and call Alex. Maybe she’s at the apartment.”

“Webber, she’s got her phone in her hand at all times when we’re not together. I’m telling you something is off. I feel it in my fucking bones.”

Clearly conflicted, he swipes a hand over his face.

“I just think we’re jumping the gun.”

“Oh, so I should wait until I get a text like Alex did? Victoria almost died, Webber, and it’s not just Cassie that’s in danger.”

He lowers his hand to his side and balls his fist, eyeing the knife in my hand. Muttering a curse, he takes the knife from me. I turn my arm outward, giving him room to cut through the cast.

“Do it,” I demand.

“What if I cut too deep?”

“You won’t.”

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