Page 77 of Descent

“No, you weren’t,” Ronan interrupts.

“Hush,” I say, as I continue thinking. “I was coming up to a light and I hit my brakes, but there was nothing.”

“What do you mean, there was nothing?” Vincent asks.

“I mean, I pushed the pedal, and nothing happened. It went straight to the floor.”

“Did you change your brake pads recently? Not bleed them properly?” Vincent asks.

I roll my eyes at him. “I’m a car guy. You really think I don’t know how to bleed my brakes?”

He doesn’t answer, just continues staring at me.

“But no,” I continue. “I haven’t changed them in a few months.”

Vincent, Ronan and Asher all share a look that puts me on edge. They don’t say anything for several seconds, but it doesn’t take a genius to guess what they are thinking.

“They were cut, weren’t they?”

“What?” Skyla gasps, clearly out of the loop. “Who would do that?”

We all look to her, and she covers her mouth in horror.

“No,” she says, with a shake of her head. “He’s not capable of this…right?”

“He’s been leaving pictures of us with our eyes crossed out, Asher being hung by a rope. He broke into the house and stabbed your bed, Siren. I think it’s safe to say we don’t know what the fuck he’s capable of,” Vincent says.

The room is heavy with silence for several seconds as we all grapple with the situation.

“What parking lot did you park in today?” Ronan asks.

“South, why?”

He nods, typing on his phone. “I’m gonna have Wesley pull the footage. See if we can tell who clipped your brakes during class.”

Fuck. That’s a good point. They definitely worked when I got to the university this morning. I look over to see Skyla staring off, a haunted look on her face. I squeeze her hand and her eyes meet mine, but they are a pale comparison to her normally vivid eyes.

I can see it all over her face. She feels responsible somehow, which is ridiculous. It’s not her fault that she’s so goddamn perfect she’s caught the attention of some freak. No one is to blame, except the son of a bitch who cut my brakes. I’m not fucking scared, not even a little bit. I’m goddamn pissed. I can see it on all the other guys’ faces as well. They look ready to burn the world down and I know it’s not for my benefit. It’s to make sure that his next target isn’t her.

I spent another two days in the hospital before they finally let me go. I’ve got a cast from my foot up and over my knee, which makes my range of motion practically nonexistent. Scooting my ass as far out of the car as possible, Skyla lines up my crutches for me. I grab them, thankfully, lifting myself up to stand without putting any weight on my left leg. Thank god I’m so incredibly chiseled, otherwise this would be impossible.

I made that joke to Skyla several times. Still haven’t gotten her to laugh.

She’s been right by my side the entire time, yet distant. I can’t really describe it; I just feel it. She’s pulling away from me, from all of us really. I don’t know what the fuck to do to stop it.

When I get to the bottom of the front steps, I blow out a breath in preparation before I take them one at a time. Asher is walking behind me, ready to catch me if I fall. My hero.

He’s the other person who has been hovering nonstop. I appreciate his concern, but it puts me on edge more than anything. Could I have died? Easily. Did I? No, thankfully, so I don’t need all the fuss. Not sure why I’m not soaking it up more. Normally, I’d kill for the attention. My mother even came to the hospital one day, thankfully while Skyla and the guys were gone. She spent twenty minutes where her entire attention was on me, which, trust me, after twenty-one years that’s probably the longest I’ve ever held her attention.

It all feels cheap under the guise of looking after the injured dude, though. I just want things to go back to normal, and I want to figure out who the fuck this piece of shit stalker is so that Vincent can kill him. I’d say so I can kill him, but we all know Vincent will be much more efficient and bloody about it, this guy deserves for it to hurt. He fucking made me destroy my baby. It’ll take buckets of money and countless hours to get a new car to the same place she was. Even then, it won’t be the same. Oh, and obviously, the whole almost killing me and tormenting the woman I love thing.

Unfortunately, Wesley wasn’t able to pull the footage from the south building. Conveniently, the cameras were down for routine maintenance that had been scheduled for months. It’s either extremely lucky timing, or they knew about it and planned their move perfectly. I’ll say one thing about this motherfucker, he sure is patient.

When I finally make it to the top of the stairs, I feel like I just did a decathlon. My chest is heaving, my forehead is dotted with sweat and my arms are shaking. I hate to break it to them, but there is no way in fuck I’m making it upstairs to any of the bedrooms.

“C’mon,” Asher says, as he claps my shoulder and begins leading us into the living room.

I crutch my way through the foyer and when I round the corner, my eyebrows raise. The couch has been moved and in place is one of the beds from upstairs. I turn my head to look at Asher and Skyla as she points to Asher.

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