Page 19 of Moonstruck
Thomas sighed, sounding relieved. “Five suicides at the university in the last two months.”
Asa shook his head, even though Thomas couldn’t see it. “Yeah, so? Suicides often trigger a chain reaction. I don’t think that’s a mystery to anybody.”
Thomas’s voice grew terse again. “That’s only part of it. Five years ago, it happened, too. Five suicides in two months. Then nothing.”
That piqued Asa’s interest a bit more. “Okay, weirder, but hardly proof of anything.”
“These kids weren’t considered ‘at risk.’ They were popular, had good grades. The parents are reeling from this, and some are pulling kids from school.”
“Low risk kids still off themselves, Dad.”
“There have been rumors circulating around campus that the students were playing a game,” Thomas said.
Asa frowned. “A game where the prize is death?”
“That’s what I wantyouto find out, Asa.”
“Why me and not Calliope?”
“Because one: Calliope can only do so much from behind a computer screen and two: she didn’t directly disobey me so she could go get laid.” How the fuck would he know that? As if he could read Asa’s mind, he said, “Never forget, I have spies everywhere.Everywhere.I’ll text you the info I have. Let me know what you find. And Asa?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you dare try to pass this off on one of your brothers.”
Asa glanced at his closed bathroom door. None of his brothers had any kind of knowledge he might need. “Yeah, okay, Dad. I’ll let you know what I find.”
Zane’s whole body ached like he’d worked out every muscle at once. The result of the taser, no doubt.
Or the kinky sex, you fucking perv.
Zane huffed out a breath.“Or that,” he muttered, rattling the chains like a ghost in a Dickens novel, grimacing as his shoulders protested. They hurt the worst. That he blamed on the handcuffs. Jesus. The handcuffs. He was wearing handcuffs. Because Asa had handcuffed him to a fucking radiator. Because he was a murderer and Zane was a klutz. This had to be the worst date ever.
This is what happens when you don’t have a backup plan.
“Fuck off,” Zane grunted, voice strained as he leaned all his weight back against the restraints, hoping his body weight might cause them to give. When they held firm, Zane lost it, jerking his arms against the unyielding metal until his wrists were raw. “This is bullshit!” he shouted before sagging against the wall.
Well, that was useless and childish.
“Seriously, fuck off.”
I’m in your head, asshole.
Zane started singing loudly and off-key, attempting to drown out the voice of his dead brother. Some small part of him hoped he was also annoying the shit out of Asa, too. Wherever he was. Were they back at his grand country estate? Had he taken him somewhere else? Some secret far away property where nobody would ever find him?
He closed his eyes. He needed to chill. He just needed to wait it out. Blake would get his text and go to that godforsaken house of horrors in the woods, and, eventually, the cops would find him. And then, he could show them the video he took. He hadn’t been lying about that. He had a video of Asa and the other man, Jericho, basically confessing to a handful of murders while casually dismembering a corpse. There wasn’t a lawyer in the world who could fight video evidence.
Zane had texted Blake the coordinates before he’d headed to the cabin. He’d told him if he didn’t hear from him by morning to send the cops. At the time, it had seemed like overkill. Laughable even. Now it wasn’t nearly enough for Blake to piece together what had happened to him.
He’d considered getting Blake to meet him, but he would have just talked him out of going, would have advised him to check out the location at a different time, when there was less risk. He would have told him he was acting recklessly.
And if you had listened, you wouldn’t be chained to a radiator by your one-night stand.
I wouldn’t have found out that the Mulvaney family was a group of body-hacking lunatics, either.
Holy shit. He couldn’t believe this was happening. This would definitely win him accolades. All the journalism awards. If he lived. God, he really hoped he lived. He fucking deserved this. Fuck. If he died, his parents would be furious. Two dead children. How embarrassing. His mom would have to find a new group of friends and pretend she’d never had children. Maybe it was better that way.
The door opened and Asa strolled in.
