Page 128 of All Our Ghosts

Wyatt’s one good eye lands on me, his brows knit together as much as they can with how swollen his face is. “I’m sorry,” he whines.

“Wyatt.” My voice is lower trying a different approach. “I don’t need the apology, you can apologize when she’s safe.” I kneel down next to him. “What the fuck happened?” I ask again, my tone dangerous.

“Ambush,” he rasps. “Watson pulled us over and made me get out of the truck. I–” he shifts again, his face crumpling in pain.“I didn’t know what else to do. Kade told me to stop, I shouldn’t have stopped, Nash.”

I take a deep breath, shaky as all get out, but a breath nonetheless. “What else? Why did he take Kadence?”

“He didn’t,” Wyatt says, looking at me. “He had help.”

“Who?” Dex says from behind me.

“I don’t know, he didn’t look familiar.” Wyatt sounds pained, his voice is tight like he is doing everything he can to keep his shit together. I glance over my shoulder at Dex who swears under his breath. He pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it to me. My own worst nightmare on the screen.

“Was this him?” I ask, swallowing hard, showing Wyatt the screen.

Silence hangs in the air as Wyatt tries to sit up, leaning closer to the phone. “Who is that?” he asks.

“West,” I snap my patience running thin, “Is this who was with Watson?”

Wyatt looks up at me and nods.

“Son of a bitch,” Dex swears again, tearing the phone out of my hand. I stand, pushing between Scottie and Dex, pacing back and forth. Rage bubbles up in my chest, my heart racing with my fists clenching at my side.

“God damnit!” I finally yell snatching up a chair and tossing it to the side into another table cracking the wood. “Fuck!”

“Who is that?” I hear Wyatt ask again.

I feel someone grab the back of my cut, tugging me backward. I'm so blinded by the guilt and rage flowing through me that my fist cocks back as I spin around. Expecting to throw a blow at one of the guys but the moment I see Blake standing behind me I freeze. Her scowl firm and eyes red-rimmed.

"Get it together," she warns me. "She doesn't need your fucking anger right now. She needs you to find her and bring her back. Where she belongs."

"You don't think I fucking know that?" I roar. "This is my fucking fault, Blake! I should have never let her leave the compound!"

Blake pins back her shoulders, lifting her chin in defiance as she stares me down. "Blaming yourself is a waste of time."It wasn't. I know that. Her smile had blinded me this morning, letting me give in to her. Blake punches my arm hard. "Get out of that fucking head of yours, Nash, and get it the fuck together. For our girl."

Our girl.

I glance up looking around the room to see every member staring at the both of us, scowls are planted on Cole and Wolfe's faces.

"I'm going to kill him." I promise. "I'm done waiting. Stokes, Watson..." My voice trails off in a breathless rage. "Jeremy. They all fucking die."

I notice that Trey has filed in at some point, seeing the carnage with wide eyes and in just enough reach that I can grab him by the collar of his cut and slam him against a neighboring wall. My voice drops dangerously low. "You better get the fuck ready to be Sheriff of thisgod-forsakentown. You don't get a fucking choice anymore."

KADENCE

Did you miss me, Princess?

I jerk with a gasp. Jeremy's voice rings in my head alongside the dull thud of a headache. A wave of nausea rolls through me as the musty smell of the room begins to take hold of my senses. It's dark aside from the table I'm sitting at and a bowl of what looks like day old oatmeal sits in front of me, doing nothing to quell my turning stomach. I feel a trickle of warm sticky liquid against my skin as I reach up to touch the gash on my temple.That explains the headache.

"You look different."

My eyes flick up to where his voice lurks in the dark. Squinting slightly only able to make out the silhouette of his figure hiding in the corner.

"What happened to you, Princess?" He sounds hurt, feigning pain in his voice as he takes a step forward, still shrouded by the darkness. I know it's not real. I know that the hurt he's pretending to feel is just that. Pretend.

I'm silent as he slowly creeps his way into the light. A tired yet dark look is in his eyes as he slams a hand on the table.

"Answer me!"

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