Page 92 of Dean's Delinquent

“Such pretty tears,” he murmurs as his hot breath washes over my skin. “I wonder if they’ll make a good lubricant. At least something on you is wet. But don’t worry, you’ll be begging me to come by the time I’m done with you. In the meantime, you have a phone call to make.”

He pulls out the phone and opens it up. There is the Dean’s contact number. At least that’s one part of this confirmed.

“I expected him to be here by now, but seeing as you have no connection to The Society on your phone, no app, no nothing to tie you to us, I believe it’s safe to assume he has no idea where you are. Come now, be a good little submissive and tell your Master where to find us.”

ChapterThirty-Seven

Dean Anderson

What in god’s name is this place? My heart stutters in my chest as we pick our way through bits and pieces of broken metal, glass, and other garbage. The tracker in Ashleigh pulses out strong, telling me we’re on the right track, but why would she come here?

There’s nothing I can see so far that would appeal to someone like her. Stopping at the familiar car, my heart slams in my chest. It’s all I need to confirm she actually is here. Not that I want to think Louis and Preston are jerking me around. They have no reason to.

But seeing her parked vehicle allows me to breathe just a touch freer. Now I just need confirmation she’s alive. Unfortunately, the tracker can’t do that. Even if it did, I probably wouldn’t believe it until I saw her.

I just need to see her.

I need to hear her sweet voice calling out to me.

I needher.

Granted, I don’t know who the other car belongs to. It’s not one I recognize from the people who show up at the initiations and play nights. Doesn’t mean someone didn’t rent a car for this occasion. It’s also probably naïve of me to think it would be someone I know.

Anyone who knows me knows not to fuck with me.

A soft whimper stops us in our tracks. Up in front, Sergei holds his hand up in a fist. I know that sound. It’s Ashleigh. I have the confirmation I want, but it’s not how I want it. It sounds pained and scared. More than that, it sounds so fucking far away.

Glancing back at the screen, I do my best to calculate, but there’s no good way of knowing the distance. Sergei looks back at me and raises an eyebrow, but keeps silent. I turn it to him so he can see it again and he nods.

Next to me, Grigori gives me as sympathetic a smile as he can. Honestly, if they weren’t with me right now, I’d probably be losing my fucking mind. Both of them keep their guns trained on the ground as they look about, keeping all vantage points in view.

Between the three of us, I’m the liability, but there’s no way in hell I’d let them go for my girl without me being there. Granted, until I saw this place, until I heard the anguished cry flitting through the overgrown trees, I had a far different worry.

When I told her jealousy was tepid compared to my feelings, it wasn’t hyperbole. I wasn’t kidding when I told her I’d take care of the Caldwell problem if he couldn’t understand. But this is different. This is a message. What that message is, I can’t figure out just yet.

My phone jumps in my hand as it buzzes. Thankfully, I had the wherewithal to put it to vibrate before we came out here. Ashleigh. Her name glows in the setting sun, making my pulse trip over itself. It’s not her calling. I know it’s not. It’s whoever fucking has her.

My fingers tremble as rage floods my system. They’re using her to get to me. Whoever this fucker is just signed their death warrant.

Turning the phone, I show it to Grigori and Sergei. They both pause and look at each other. They seem to communicate in a way I can’t understand, but the feeling is mutual. We all know now it’s someone who knows me and wants to use Ashleigh as leverage.

But who?

It has to be someone who knows us both and what she means to me. But that list is very narrow, including the two with me right now. Doctor Andrew wouldn’t care. Doctor Bradley seems to have his mind on other things at the moment.

Bringing up the notes app, I quickly type in a name and show it to them.

Luke?

I hate how much it makes sense.

He knows about us. He felt disrespected by her. He’s a final tie to the Ravens and Wolves. God, why didn’t I think of this sooner?

Grigori’s lips turn down into a frown as he types something on his phone. A few moments later, he pulls up a map with a blinking dot similar to the one tracking Ashleigh. Only, there’s two of them. One seems to be at the track fields at Loftry, and the other is in the administrative buildings.

When the fuck did you put a tracker on Luke and Shelaine?

When Grigori reads the screen, his lips turn up into a sinister smile, but he says nothing.

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