Page 40 of Uncontrolled

Nico weaves the blood-colored ends of her hair into a half-formed braid before she raises her head. “I’m not sure how close you and Jamison are. He mentions you a lot, but anytime I’ve encouraged him to bring you by or even asked simple questions about you, he shut down.” Her brow furrows. “You’re an enigma, Ploy. We don’t know why he kept you so hidden while preaching you were a brother to him. Any insight on that?”

I shake my head. The heavy gazes of the others, braced and waiting to follow Nico’s lead on how I’m handled, weigh on me.

“At any rate,” she says finally. “If the resurrectionists are killing us off, we decided you deserve a heads up.”

It’s too easy. “You didn’t track me down out of kindness,” I venture. “Spill it. What do you want from me?”

“You’ve spent significant time with Allie,” Nico says. She leans forward slightly where she’s perched on the desk.

Behind it, East crosses his massive arms over his chest. Any ebb in the tension disappears. “We’re going to need you to push her. Something happened after her aunt died. That’s when we last heard from Corbin and Jamison.” He pauses. “That fit your timeline?”

I don’t trust my voice, so I nod instead.

“We told Jamison, and we’ll tell you,” he says. “Y’all made your claim on Allie. We’re not here to botch your play, Ploy.”

I picture Jamison defending Allie as his property, unwilling to budge because he moved in first. That’s what saved her life. I could have lost her then. “Noted,” I say.

“But,” East goes on. “We need to find Corbin.”

“What, like a body?” I ask. Allie got someone to clean up the scene at the farmhouse, scrub all traces of Jamison, his dead father. But I have no clue on the whereabouts of Corbin’s corpse.

Nico surveys me expectantly, the wad of money still balanced on her knee. “If Jamison and Corbin are alive, we’re rescuing them. At any cost.” Her plea skews into anger. “You’re already in with her! Do you live up to your name or not?”

“Wasn’t born with it,” I shoot back. “Right. I mean, yeah, I guess I could go through her stuff when she’s gone. Search for clues or something.” Even Keeley acts unimpressed with my offer. “I’ll reach out to Jamison and see if he answers. Again, I’m positive he’s fine.”

I wonder if I can convince them I heard back, that Jamison lost trust in them and moved on. I’m watching Nico so intently I almost miss Zen’s flinch before the second girl explodes.

“Bullshit,” she yells, drilling her finger into the air between us. “Jamison would never disappear like this. I bet you were too busy holed up with your zombie-making meal ticket to even notice he’s missing!”

I’m not the only one startled by Zen’s outburst. Three of the four hunters are staring at her, gape jawed. Only Keeley seems unsurprised, patting Zen’s arm.

“You barely know him,” I say.

Her sudden smile is cruel. “I know him better than you think.”

I can’t help my shock. What’s written over Zen’s features isn’t concern for a friend. She didn’t mention Corbin. She mentioned Jamison.

When Zen speaks again, she’s measured and controlled and utterly certain. “He would have called me if he could,” she says as she snags a rubber band from her wrist and wraps her hair in a messy black bun. “He’s in trouble.”

She’s not his type. The girls Jamison hooked up with always struck me as shells the way he described them, pliable beauties he ran through too fast for me to ever meet. But if Zen shot him down, it might have been enough to snag Jamison’s interest until he could claim the conquest. Maybe they didn’t make it that far. Maybe she thought whatever was starting between them had a future.

You don’t know the bullet you dodged, I think.

“You’re a shit friend, Ploy,” she says.

My genuine shock at her revelation only drives her anger.

“Jamison told me once he’s responsible for you. Your phone? Does he still pay for that?” Her grimace hardens, warning me I’m on thin ice. East doesn’t seem to know how to protect himself, but I’m guessing Zen can throw a punch. “Bet you would have to notice he’s missing when it got shut off, wouldn’t you?”

The twins, Nico and East, trade perplexed looks.

“You and Jamison had a thing?” East asks Zen.

“What kind of a thing?” Nico chimes in, one hand pawing at Zen.

Keeley’s shit-eating grin tells me everything I need about Zen and Jamison. Either the kid’s perceptive or the older girl confided in her.

Zen feigns innocence. “We were talking.”

---