Page 109 of Cruel Cravings

“It’s you,” she says, wrenching the curtain aside. “Girl, where the fuck have you been? How could you ghost me?”

A smile twists onto my lips as we finally meet face to face. I step forward and she eases back, her brows knitting.

“Who are you?” she whispers.

I hold out my hand to shake hers. “The name’s Jael. I’ve been following you for a very long time. I’m looking for my sister.”

“You—” she starts and then stops in shock. “You were at Hurst Manor? You were the one watching me?”

“I needed answers. You were searching for them.”

“You made me think… you made me think I was losing my mind!”

“I was protecting my sister,” I answer plainly. “You’ve been going around claiming your her best friend.I’mher sister.I’mher best friend!”

“Bullshit! Lyra never even mentioned you. Did you know that? Guess who she would call when she needed someone? Where were you? Did you even care when she disappeared?”

In a flash, the vicious and ugly jealousy consumes me. It twists through me like a snake and I can feel the poisonous venom leaking into my bloodstream. The sheer impulse that rises up so high and begs me so desperately to hurt her—snatch that knife off the bed and slash her throat for saying what she has.

But then I breathe. I take in a sharp breath and blink, doing what Dr. Wolford and Nurse Big Bird advised in moments like this. I count backwards from ten and take a moment to center myself. Remind myself that hurting Imani won’t solve my problem. It won’t help find my sister.

“Please tell me what you know,” I say, forcing calmness into my tone. “I need to find her.”

Imani scoffs. “You think I’m going to help you? You’re insane. You need help. Get the fuck away from me.”

A soft sigh leaves me. The only signal that he needs.

The floor creaks under the sudden heavy weight of Brontë as he climbs through the window and lands upright. His massive frame looms over both of us, the sharp edges of the minotaur mask covering his face while the dark horns jut out the sides of his head.

Imani spends a second eyeing him and then she screams.

Where my sigh alerted Brontë, her frantic scream does the same for the men she has with her.

Feet pound the hallway floor outside the bedroom. Two men appear in the doorway at the same time, both dressed in black, both formidable in their own right.

I recognize them immediately as two of the wardens at the games—Ryu Kimura and Archer Hurst, son of the Hostess.

“What the fuck is—” Archer cuts himself off once he scans the room, spotting not only me but the massive hulk of muscle behind me. “Wolford,” he says simply, then he smirks in cockyfashion. “I thought I told you to stay out of my way… if you want to live.”

Imani shudders like she’s been shocked by a jolt of electricity. Really, she’s just shocked. “You twoknoweach other?! What the fuck is going on!?”

“Brontë Wolford,” says Ryu with a reserved nod. His expression is otherwise unreadable. “You were in the maze.”

“We’re here for answers,” I declare over all of them. I even stomp my foot in impatience. “I need to find my sister!”

“She’s gone, don’t you get it?” snaps Imani. “Lyra’s not coming back! What do you think the suitcase is for? I’ve… I’ve had to start moving on. Maybe you need to too…”

“My sister’s still alive!”

“Maybe,” answers Ryu with a stroke of his goatee. “But if she is, she’s not coming back to Easton.”

“This you?” Archer chimes in, holding up his phone. It’s pinged with the same alerts hitting everyone else’s phone in the city. The breaking news that the Cleaver’s no longer the only dangerous psycho on the run.

I’ve joined the club.

“I’d advise you to take a page from your sister’s book and get the hell out of here,” Archer says, sticking both hands in his pants pockets. “As for us, we’ll be departing within the hour… unless you’re here to try and stop us.”

He peers over at Brontë as he speaks, the tension ratcheting up in the room. Brontë merely takes a step forward in acknowledgment, making it clear he won’t be backing down.

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