Page 146 of The Deceptions
Wilder pushes me behind him, and he scowls. “Stay the fuck away from him,” he grits out, shaking his head.
Aw. He’s not mad, he’s disappointed in me. Oh well, this had to be done. Huxley needed to learn his lesson for taking my sister from me. In fact, I don’t think I’m quite done with him. I take a step forward, but Wilder puts a hand on my chest.
“We’ll discuss more about what the fuck you did to me later.” His jaw tics several times until he turns away from me and faces the enemy strapped to our chair.
Huxley lazily grins, losing himself to the delirium running through him. Blood coats his cheeks. Swelling forms around his left eye. He’s a goddamn mess. All at the hands of me. My chest puffs out.
“Would you put some fucking clothes on?” Wilder asks, running a hand over his near-bald head.
Rude. He knows how I torture. Sans clothes and all. If blood gets on my clothing, then I have to throw it out. It’s a shame, really. And now, he’s here to rain on my parade. AKA, stopping my torture session altogether.
“Did you have a nice nap, Old Chap?” I grin, putting on my boxers.
Wilder flips me off. “No. Now, what the hell did you find out?” Oh, so he wants the information. Interesting. Maybe I should make him work for it. Considering I did all this by my lonesome. Not that I needed him, anyway. He frowns at me, shaking his head. “Malic,” he says with exasperation. “Just tell me what he told you already. I’m sure his little friends are wondering where he is. They’ll be suspicious, and who are the first people they’re going to suspect?” He raises a brow.
Fine. He makes sense. Although I could take all three of them at once. Well, minus the tech genius. He could probably hack my phone or something. Too bad he couldn’t find anything. I may be impulsive, but I’m not an idiot.
“It seems our prisoner is innocent. Or so he claims.” I pull my jeans up with a huff, noting how unfair this treatment is. I should be able to stay in my birthday suit for as long as I want.
“That was the last time I fucking saw her,” Huxley chimes in, wincing when his tongue runs over the split in his lip.
“And why the fuck were you even speaking to her?” Wilder asks, looking between the two of us with narrowing eyes.
“Weird, right? He claims she doesn’t trust us with certain information he hasn’t given up yet.” I take a step forward, leaving my shirt, socks, and shoes behind. Fuck it. If I get blood on my jeans, I’ll burn them to a crisp.
Huxley chuckles. “Two weeks ago, Eleanor Steele, twenty-four, went missing. Ring any bells?”
“No. Should it?” I question, narrowing my eyes at him.
Huxley huffs. “Yeah, it fucking should. It was her coworker. They overheard some shady shit at work. Eleanor went to the cops. And guess what? She’s fucking missing now. Coincidence?”
Wilder throws up a finger, processing the information. “So, her coworker overheard something at the hospital alongside Mer?”
“Isn’t that what I fucking said?” Huxley spits, rage consuming him. “Eleanor went missing twenty hours after stepping foot into the fucking police station. And now? Meredith is gone, too. You understand now?”
“What did they overhear?” Wilder cuts him off, taking a step toward him. He’s not one to want to get bloodied up, but he’ll do it if he needs to.
No. I don’t fucking understand.
“That’s a question you’ll have to ask her. Because I don’t fucking know for sure.” Something in my chest tugs hard.
“But why you?” I ask again. “Why not me or him?”
“I don’t fucking know,” Huxley says. “It was two weeks ago. She found me at the casino while I was doing my rounds. She was in her fucking scrubs, pale, and fucking shaking. I asked her the same thing...” he trails off, brows furrowing. “Why aren’t you seeking your brother? You know what she said?”
“What did she say?” Wilder asks in a deadly tone.
“That we were the only people she trusted with the situation. That was it. Nothing more. She didn’t tell me what the fuck she overheard. She didn’t say shit. But she needed my help because she thought she had a lead on something that was happening around town. Something that involved whatever the fuck she overheard.”
“And what the hell did you do for her? If she didn’t tell you shit...” Wilder asks, shaking his head. “You have to be fucking lying about all this.”
Huxley rolls his eyes. “She was fucking afraid to tell anyone what happened or what she heard. She saw that Eleanor fucking disappeared for whatever she told the cops. So, do you think your sister wanted to tell me anything? Not a chance in hell. She only came to me because of my connections in Greenwood.”
“So, my sister, who didn’t fucking trust me… came to you. Another untrustworthy asshole?” This doesn’t make any goddamn sense.
“She came to ask JJ for help, digging into medical records at Greenwood Memorial. She needed information on five patients who had come into surgery and were under the care of Dr. Adriane Lohr.”
Silence eats up the space between us.
