Page 37 of Like Grim Death: Part One
But I think of last night. Crawling through a graveyard, blood bubbling beneath my skin.I’m brave too, aren’t I?Or am I just stupid?
“A mess,” Cain finishes. “Just like you. Just like him. But what I find funny about all this…” He cocks his head, looking over his shoulder as I lift my gaze to him. “You’re fucking around with Atlas. Seems you’ve figured out how to play the gamejust like us.”
He turns his back on me again, like he’s going to walk away. “I’m sleeping in the living room. If you try to leave this house, I’ll know, and I will lock you in the fucking basement, do you understand?”
I think about the girl Maverick had locked in the basement before.
My jealousy surges hot.
But there’s no use fighting against Cain while he’s still awake. So, instead of saying what I want to say, I just nod once.
When I hear his footsteps disappearing down the long hallway, I bound up the stairs. After I walk into our bedroom—the scent of leather and marijuana heavy in the air, but something else too, that I can’t place—I close the door behind me, then toss my phone on the bed. Maverick left his here—it’s still charging on the nightstand and of course I don’t know the passcode—so there’s no use calling him.
I go to the walk-in closet, and fling open the door. Here, the scent of something else, like an unfamiliar cologne, is stronger. I flip the light on, peering into the huge closet at the neat rows of black clothes, the shirts and hoodies and bomber jackets on hangers, a center island with built-in shelf space for shoes, an inverted cross in black underneath the glass top.
There’s no one here. Maybe the scent is Cain.
My bare feet skim over the hardwoods, and I pull on my leather jacket over Mav’s shirt, then a pair of socks, before I stuff my feet into boots I had tossed haphazardly along one of the shelves. I walk out and flip the light, wrinkling my nose. Cain smelled like… a shower. Besides, he hadn’t been in here.
I sniff, running the back of my hand over my nose and making a note to ask Mav if he tried a new cologne, but first I have to find him.
I close the closet door, head for my side of the king-sized bed. Snatching my phone from the charger, my fingers poised over the keyboard, I see the person who I meant to text to ask if he knows what’s going on has already texted me.
Unknown:He still gone?
How the fuck do you know, Atlas?I type exactly that to the number not programmed in my phone. Cain and Atlas both know something I don’t about the whereabouts of my fucking boyfriend.
Cain sounded genuinely tired. I have no idea if he’s a light sleeper or not, or how long he’s been here and if he heard me wake up and walk out of the bedroom, but either way, he can’t keep me trapped inside my own home. Besides, I have a right to find out where Maverick is. He didn’t say anything about going anywhere. He was taking Rain home and coming right back.
My phone lights up in my hand, no vibrations or ringtone because it’s permanently on silent, except for when Mavy calls since he’s saved as my only favorite.
Atlas:Don’t come here.
I frown in the darkness of the bedroom, the sole light the glow from my screen. Outside the closed curtains, I hear nothing. I know Maverick’s cars are both in the garage, and Atlas must be at home if he’s warning me away.
Irritation crawls under my skin.
Me:Why’d you text me in the first place, then?
I inhale, staring at my phone, annoyed. Again, I catch the scent of something unusual. Typically, this room smells like Maverick. Leather. And sometimes, weed, although he’s been smoking outside more since we became a daycare for Rain Malikov.
But I brush it aside, still staring at my phone as the screen dims. Rolling my eyes, I turn around and flop down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling in the dark, the phone cradled to my chest.
I’m going to get out of this house when I know Cain is asleep. I don’t have my own car, but I’ve got shared access to the Audi Mav keeps because a rich boy-toy like the McLaren isn’t a daily driver.
My phone glows, and I hold it over my face.
Atlas: Because I know you, Ella, and I knew you’d think to come to my house. Don’t.
I don’t know if this is some kind of code. Like, is he telling me he actually wants me to come? He’s always saying one day Mav might read our texts, and I wouldn’t put it past him, but it’s weird Atlas would even know he’s gone. Then again, they are brothers, aren’t they?
I blink in the dark, staring at the words on the screen. Sucking in a breath, I use my abs to sit up, but just as I go to text him back, I sense something behind me.
There’s a tremor in my fingers as I grip my phone tighter, knowing I need to look, I need to scream, or move, or run, but I do nothing.
I don’t want to look.
I don’t want to fucking look.
