Page 121 of Root

“Fucker.”

I’m halfway down the hall when I hear Rose’s squeal of happiness, and I go looking for Jess.

Things are looking up.

I’ve got a plan, I’ve got a place, there are changes afoot and—

“Jess?”

Her door’s open.

But she’s gone.

There’s a note and I pick it up.

One fucking word.

Sorry.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Jess

I feel bad that I spun bullshit to Rose to get a ride out of the grounds. I don’t think she believed me, I wouldn’t either, but I also know if she thinks there’s even a drop of truth, it’s worth helping me. She doesn’t want Rush or Nikolai in danger.

In another life, I’d really want her as a friend.

But this is the only one I have.

I’m going to use it to rescue my brother.

Jack…and Rush.

I get the car to drop me at Bunny Munroe, and the moment it peels away, I steal a motorcycle. It’s not hard, a lot of the regulars leave their spare key hidden. Most probably couldn’t find the key, or wouldn’t dare to look.

But I know because I’ve been around these fuck knuckles a good majority of my life, and I also dare.

Besides, in the grand scheme of things, this is nothing. I dared to go back into the Wilder suite and that book I found? Gone. I searched the devil’s home. I got out of there. I’m about to probably die in a confrontation with the Ten64 in order to save Rush and my brother.

So yeah. I very much fucking dare.

I take a bike I know, parked at the edge of the lot. It’s Sam’s, probably one of the scariest looking dude’s around, but he likes me and has helped me toss out a trouble maker a time or two.

He probably won’t kill me, and I’ll make it up to him.

If I survive.

Yeah, not thinking about that. At all.

When I’m on the highway, outside of the city, I pull over and dig out my phone.

“C’mon.” I stare at it, willing it to buzz with a text or a call. “Don’t these fucks know the risk I took calling fucking Bunny’s to have a message passed along?”

Not to mention going there because…what if someone walked out when I was borrowing the bike?

“Fuckers, text.”

I’m sure they will, just like I’m sure they get my risks. It’s just they don’t care.

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