Page 5 of Demise

“I did. She wanted it, I wanted it. It happened. That gonna be a problem, Griggs?” I challenge.

His jaw is clenched tight, and his pulse is thundering in his neck.

“If she brings in one more goddamn guy, I’m gutting him like a pig, onsite,” Griggs grumbles.

“Good luck telling her that.” Liam laughs.

“Skyla? Skyla?” Ronan suddenly calls out from the top floor. “What the FUCK!”

His tone sets us all on edge. We take off upstairs, Liam being easily left in the dust as we race to the top. Griggs is the first, followed by me, and then Asher. We push into Skyla’s room to find the bed empty and a frazzled looking Ronan standing on the balcony.

“Where is she?” he asks with crazed eyes.

My head swivels around the room like she’s probably just hiding somewhere before looking back at him.

“I-I don’t know. I just put her down here.”

“How long ago?” Griggs asks.

“I don’t know, three hours ago? Maybe four?”

“Maybe four?” Asher snarls, wrapping his fists in my shirt. “Where the FUCK is my wife?”

“I’ve been here!” I defend. “So has Liam! No one got in. No alarms went off, no sounds, nothing.”

“Then where the fuck is she, Wes?” Ronan snaps.

I run a hand through my hair, pulling my phone from my pocket as I pull up the surveillance footage. I run through the last four hours of video from the front of the house at triple speed, not seeing a thing. It takes several minutes to work through this much footage before I switch to the back of the house. I run through the film for another five minutes when Griggs leans over, pausing the footage.

“There!” he says.

I squint, trying to see what he’s talking about. A quick black flash can be seen from the corner before the footage blips, and it’s gone.

No.

Pulling up my next app, I begin running security checks, hoping to fucking God that I’m wrong.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I mutter to myself before my heart sinks.

“Well?” Asher asks as my eyes raise from the screen.

“Someone hacked into the main line, made a duplicate footage to camouflage themselves,” I say.

“Meaning?” Ronan hedges, understanding and fear already written all over his face.

My eyes come to Vincent’s just as I hear an out of breath Liam crest the stairs.

“He’s got her,” I whisper.

Chapter Three

Vincent

Wesley’s words ring through my head for several seconds before my mind is actually able to process them.

He’sgother. HehasSkyla. Hetookher. And it’s all this dumb motherfucker’s fault. I can’t even blink before my body moves of its own accord. My hands are wrapped around Wesley’s throat, and I’m squeezing like I never have before. I snapped plenty of throats in my life, crushed plenty of tracheas. I have no doubt this one will be the most satisfying of all.

Wesley’s eyes bulge out of his head, but he doesn’t fight me. Just frantically grabs at my hands to release him. Yeah, fucking right.

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