Page 79 of The Devils of Saint City

Me:Does she miss us?

No response.

Me:At least tell me what she’s doing right now. Please.

I hate that I basically just begged, but when she responds, I know it was worth it.

Blair:No clue. She isn’t home right now.

What?

Something on my face has Ash rushing over to read my text messages, and after a shared look, I hastily swipe over to the tracker app and find her in fucking Bayside. “What the fuck is she doing there?”

Asher snatches the phone to zoom in a little closer, then pulls out his phone to call her. No answer. “She wouldn’t just go there, Manson.”

I’ve never heard Ash sound more menacing, and for the sake of whoever she’s with right now, I have to hope this isn’t nefarious. “Get the exact address,” I rush out, running over to get my shoes and keys to the truck, and when I find Asher again he’s fully dressed in black with multiple guns loaded.

“She’s at one of Julian’s hideouts,” he hisses. “We should have never let him fucking live!”

He kicks his desk so hard it puts a hole in the wall, telling me all I need to know. Rhea is in danger, and if something bad has happened to her, I know not only are people going to die in the most brutal way possible... this will also be the last day of our lives.

We’ll follow her in death if we have to.

33

One kidnapping seems to be enough. Right? One kidnapping per person per lifetime? I’d think that’s more than sufficient, but here I am, rope bound to a goddamn chair in the middle of a musty old warehouse. Funny how growing up all I heard was “stranger danger” when in reality, I’ve known both of the dickheads who have kidnapped me now. First was Asher, now Face Tats. He’s asked me six times not to call him that already. He says his name is Julian, but fuck him. I don’t think he deserves a name.

“So, Face Tats, tell me. What’s your goal here? If you’re trying to scare me, you’re doing a pisspoor job. I’ve had better nightmares after Scooby Doo movies.”

He grunts.

“Sorry, I never learned to speak caveman. Can you try that again in the King’s English?”

“The what?”

There he is. Smirking, I slowly work my wrists behind my back to loosen the rope. “There you go. So again, what exactly are you trying to do here? If you’re hoping to get revenge for your dearly departed degenerates, I’m sorry to tell you that you’re barking up the wrong tree. The Devils of Saint City decided they didn’t want me. If you’re trying to act out some sick little fantasy, you’re not doing a very good job of that, either. I was naked way faster than this when the Devils took me. We’ve already established you’re not scaring me, so what is it? What are we doing here?”

He points at my right arm like that’s supposed to mean something to me, yet again not saying anything.

It’s driving me nuts that he won’t just talk, especially since these fucking ropes squeak too much to work on them in silence.

“My arm, huh? Are you going to auction it off to the highest bidder or something? Sorry to tell you, I have the upper body strength of a wet spaghetti noodle. I don’t think you’ll get very much for it.”

“Are you always this annoying?” he asks, glaring over his laptop at me. “No wonder they didn’t want you.”

So he knows then, and I’m still here. Hm.

“Generally, no. I guess being kidnapped brings out the sass in me. Are you always such an idiot?”

Again, silence.

“I mean, really. The Devils may not care anymore, but I’m sure Daddy will. I’ve been staying with one of her favorite girls and as it turns out, Daddy took quite a liking to me.” It’s not true, I still haven’t met her — but he doesn’t need to know that. “You know Daddy, right?”

His grossly alabaster face turns even more bloodless under those tribal tattoos. “Yeah, I know her. Doubt she’ll give a fuck since I’m not actually planning to hurt you.”

He has to be the worst kidnapper of all time. First he nearly fumbled taking me — little shit got an elbow to the eye when he snuck up on me outside of my car in the driveway. I was nearly back in the house after a brief scuffle on the porch steps before I heard the gun click. I might be sassy when I’m annoyed and a little afraid, but I’m not a moron. When someone holds a gun on you and tells you to get in the truck, you get in the truck. Then he forgot to blindfold me until we were nearly at this shitty warehouse, then decided not to bother with it at all. Luckily for him, I don’t know Bayside well enough to really know where I’m at. This is where the... troublemakers hang out. The criminals, the lowlifes. It’s mostly warehouses and old buildings leftover from a time when Bayside was booming, but they’ve all been taken over as hideouts or meeting spots for shady dealings. I’ve heard rumors the cops won’t even come here anymore.

And if all that wasn’t bad enough, he definitely didn’t tie these ropes tight enough. Just a few more minutes and I should be free, so I just need him to get out of his chair and move away from his gun long enough to move.

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