Page 22 of The Hunt
More than just worried. I was terrified that she was dead.
I ran a hand through my hair. Someone had to know something.
“Hey, Apollo?” someone shouted behind me. With her glasses nearly falling down her face, she hurried up to me, breathing heavily. She readjusted herself as she approached. “You’re Apollo DeLuca, right?”
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Allie Hall,” she said. “I heard you were looking for Daphne.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“I used to live next to her before my mom moved me in with my stepbrother,” she said. “I don’t know much about her, but I do have her number. I texted her earlier today when I first heard you were looking for her, but she hasn’t responded to me.”
“Fuck,” I mumbled, pacing the floor. “Do you know where she’d be?”
“No.”
“What about Mark Sesta? Do you know him?”
Allie froze. “Mark? He’d hang around the neighborhood a lot. Why?”
“Because I think he took her. Do you know where he is?”
“I don’t, but I know someone who might.”
I snapped my head in her direction. “Who?”
“João Rocha,” she said. “Leader of Poison.”
“Poison?”
She widened her eyes. “Poison, the gang. You haven’t heard of them?”
“No. Should I have?”
“They cut off the principal’s head last semester and threw it onto the football field,” she said. “You sure you haven’t heard of them?”
“That Poison?” I asked. “They know him?”
She shrugged, worry still etched onto her face. “They might, and if they don’t, then they will find the information for you. But they have a price. João Rocha and Poison always have a price.”
“I don’t care. Where can I find him?”
“Two hallways down to the left. You’ll probably find him by his locker.”
“Thanks, Allie,” I said, hurrying in that direction.
While I didn’t want to work with Poison, if João could help me find Daphne, I didn’t care.
CHAPTER 15
APOLLO
João leaned against a set of lockers, a cigarette dangling from his lips while he talked to some tall, blonde, and brawny kid. Almost as if he knew I was coming for him, he looked up when I approached. “DeLuca.”
“I need information,” I said, pausing in front of him.
He took a long drag from his cigarette and blew smoke out between us, pulling the cigarette from his mouth, a smirk crawling onto his face. “Information costs money. Help costs more. What do you need?”
