Page 28 of Murder & Mayhem
“No! I didn’t! I’m right here. I’m coming!”
I was panting from the effort, my chest burning as I ran faster and faster. My legs were shaking and a cramp was forming in my side. I kept pushing, desperate to get there. Just a little farther, a little longer and I’d be able to free him. I couldn’t give up. No matter how much it hurt, how pointless it seemed. I wouldn’t. Sweat dripped down my face and into my eyes. It stung, and I tried to blink to clear it, but it only got worse. I couldn’t see Bailey anymore. I could hear him though. He was crying, asking why I would abandon him. I tried yelling to let him know I was still here, that I wasn’t leaving him. I’d never leave him, but suddenly no words would come. I screamed and screamed, soundless and desperate. My legs gave out then and I collapsed onto the cold, hard ground. Still, I didn’t give up. I tried to crawl. My legs were useless, dead weight behind me, but I pushed myself forward with my arms inch by inch. But Bailey kept getting farther away.
“You left me, Jamie. You promised you’d never leave, but you lied.”
The scene changed.
I was on the mattress now, Bailey nowhere to be seen. That was fine. That was good, even. Maybe that meant he’d gotten help. That he was safe. I was tied in an X position, my arms above my head and spread, my legs attached by some invisible chains on the corners of the mattress. I tentatively pulled at them, but there was no give. There was nothing I could do but wait.
The door opened, and I lifted my head as much as I could, trying to prepare myself for whatever nightmare was coming next. It wasn’t a monster that filled the doorway, however, but Dominic. He was wearing the suit he’d had on when I’d first seen him, but it was covered in blood. He was totally drenched in it. His face was a mask of red, making his dark eyes stand out in contrast.
“Dominic?” I asked tentatively, trying not to hope. He had a bloody knife in his hand, the same one he had given me for protection. Blood dripped down the blade and onto the floor. So much fucking blood.
Dominic was staring into the distance, like he couldn’t see me, but his attention fell on me when I spoke. He smiled, but it wasn’t sweet and full of the gentleness that I craved like air. It was dangerous and not in the good way that made me squirm, like when he’d held me by the throat. It was deranged, very similar to the way he’d looked at Joey or that guy at pirate pervert’s house. My heart sank.
“Dominic, please. Please, it’s me, Jamie. Can you help me?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Now why would I do that, beautiful? Not when you look so perfect like that.”
He took a step toward me, and I screamed.
CHAPTER 11
DOMINIC
Sleep was hard to come by. All I could think about was Jamie in the other room and if I was doing the right thing by leaving him alone like that. At least a dozen times, I got out of bed to go check on him. Half those times, I made it into the hallway before turning back. Once, I even made it all the way into the room, ready to do whatever I could to make it better, but Jamie was already asleep.
It wasn’t peaceful, and I was tempted to wake him, but he settled down before I could decide so I silently made my way back to the spare bedroom. Seeing him struggle only made sleep harder. I stayed awake, switching between playing with my knife to keep my hands busy and checking my phone for messages from Ari or Gideon. The chat was quiet, and if something didn’t give soon, I’d end up doing something I’d regret.
The door was completely open, so wide it set me on edge. But my bedroom was directly across the small hallway from the spare I was staying in, so this way if Jamie got up, I’dknow immediately. If some threat managed to break in, they’d be dead before they ever got close to him.
Around 2 AM, I gave up on sleep entirely and pulled out my laptop to do my own research. Generally, I left it to Ari because he was a fucking genius, but I was no slouch. I started by looking at the information Ari had sent me about Jamie earlier. I should feel guilty. It was an invasion of privacy, and I would be pissed if the situation were reversed and he looked up my juvenile records like that. But if this would help me protect Jamie, then I would do whatever was necessary and make sure I had all the information available. I could deal with a pissed-off Jamie, but even in this short time, I knew I wouldn’t survive a dead one.
Jameson Sullivan, born April 3, 2005—yeah, I wasn’t going to think about that too hard—to Ashley Sullivan, age 16. No father listed. The address on the birth certificate seemed to be Ashley’s childhood home, but Jamie had first shown up on DCFS’s radar when someone had called the police when they’d found him crawling around in a dumpster. His mom had been living in a tent nearby.
After that, his history was hazy. Bailey Sullivan’s birth certificate had been filed in Toledo, Ohio, and Ari had found record of Jamie being registered for kindergarten there, but he hadn’t finished the year. Somehow, he’d ended up here with Joey Byrne. There was no record of a legal marriage between Joey and Ashley, but she had signed over parental guardianship to him when Jamie had been nine. She’d died three years later.
That was it. There was a spotty education record until Jamie had officially signed himself out of high school when he’d been sixteen. Bailey’s was a little more consistent, but not by much. The last six months was the longest he had gone toschool without any gaps. That had been Jamie’s doing, working his ass off to give Bailey a better life than he’d had.
I closed out the files, feeling sick and ragey. Pushing my computer to the side, I got out of bed and started to pace the room like a caged fucking animal. I needed to kill or fuck someone hard and rough. But since that was off the table with the one person I had any interest in fucking right now, I fell back to killing. I grabbed my phone and texted the group chat.
Me:
Any updates? I need a fucking name, A.
What did it say about my brothers that both of them were awake and answering immediately? None of the three of us slept well on a good day. When we were hooked on something, getting a couple hours between the three of us was the best we could expect.
Ari:
Sorry. Believe it or not, Slash isn’t an original street name. And O’Malley seems to be in the wind. He’s not at any of his usual haunts, and there’s been no hits on his name anywhere on the web, on either side. Gotta be patient and trust the process.
I growled and gave the finger to my phone. Trust the process my ass. The process was too damn slow.
Gideon:
Told you to get a punching bag. It’s not the same as beating some asshole’s face in, but it could take the edge off. Though, so could that sweet boy you’ve got a hard-on for.
Why the fuck had I textedthese assholes?
