Page 108 of Massacre Monday
Adal’s eyes grow hazy, and Nico gapes at me.
“Just kill him and be done with it,” Nico says.
Adal stands and crosses his arms like he’s actually thinking it over. “Call Apollo. Ask if we can remove his legs first and say it was a motorcycle accident.”
“On it.” Nico steps out of the room, holding his phone up to his ear.
Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, Adal waves it at me. “Fine. You want to die? We’ll make that happen for you. Slowly and painfully.”
For the first time in a long time, I silently beg to stay alive.
thirty-five
The soundof a key slotting into the metal door startles me from a restless sleep. Hope soars that my boyfriend will walk through like he hasn’t been missing for two days. When it opens, I grab the blanket and rush to it. A tall man with shaggy black hair, cut cheekbones, and fierce blue eyes enters. My belly flips.
But it’s not Ryan.
Raising up onto my tiptoes, I halt my steps in front of Aiden, who shuts the door behind him and turns his icy gaze on me. “I came to check up on you. Henry said you wanted to be alone last night.”
My throat is tight with disappointment. “I did.” Despite his frigid demeanor, I appreciate Aiden showing up—only because he looks like Ryan, and they share blood. His presence is oddly comforting.
“I bought the place across the hall so he could stay there instead and set a few pledges in the parking lot. No one unapproved will be allowed in the building. I have it on my phone’s surveillance system to watch everyone come and go.”
I blink at his kind gesture, though he speaks as if it’s hisduty. “Thanks.”
He points toward the sofa, and I grip the covers tighter around me and lead him to it. The leather squeaks as I slouch onto a seat while he perches on the arm of the chair nearby.
“Pippi, I need you to understand something important. You’rehis, Ryan’s, and soon to be a Cardell. Sometimes, he’ll have to do things that may seemsordid, but?—”
With a sharp inhale, I roll my eyes. “I’m not a delicate flower, Aiden. Look who raised me and where I come from. You think girls from Gnarled Pine Hollow are like the Elina Burberrys of the world? No. I grew up around what I think people callorganized crime.”
There. It’s a sort of a hushed topic in our household, but the Freidenbergs earned most of their money through an illegal gun trade. If he thinks I’m a coquettish idiot, then he needs to learn, and fast.
For the first time, his stone face breaks into a softened expression. One may even describe his lips as showing off a grin. “Perfect.” He flares out the tails of his peacoat and sits across from me. “Then I need you to work with us on this.No oneshould know that Ryan has gone missing. Not until I gather more information.”
“It’s a few days late for that.”
“If anyone asks, explain that he got into a row with our father and took off to his beach house for a few days, but he’ll be back for the next hockey game.”
Like it’s been stabbed, my heart weeps in my chest. “How do you know that?”
Aiden stares at the glass-topped coffee table for a long time with a look of intense sadness. “Because I have to believe it.”
“Does your mom know?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Your sisters?”
“No. Only my father and those who need to. But this is why I want to keep it as much of a secret as we can. My mothercannotfind out about this. It will break her.”
“Where do you think he is?” I ask, desperation clawing at my senses. I needsomething.
The backs of his fingers trail along his jawline, causing the scruff to ruffle underneath them. “I thought that it was a society issue and explored all avenues there. Now, I don’t think that’s it.” He clears his throat. “Bo found something.”
Sucking in a breath, I sit up straighter. “What?”
“Pieces of his bike. Like he’d been hit in an accident on the north side of campus.”
