Page 89 of Hellbent
He nods without turning around, already disappearing down the hall.
I stay where I am, lying on my back, eyes on the ceiling.
The sheets are still warm on Damian’s side. I curl into the indentation in the mattress like I can hide there, like I can anchor myself to the heat he left behind.
But my pulse won’t slow. My breath stays shallow.
I press my palms to my face, hoping to quiet everything. To stop the looping. But my thoughts won’t let go.
She’s in the middle of the shot.
We didn’t even clock him.
Didn’t clockwho?
I’m sure there can only be one answer:
Billy.
I lie there, pulse pounding, willing myself to stay still, but I can already feel it—the moment before everything shifts. The quiet before the storm.
Downstairs, the murmur of voices drifts up, low and serious. Warning bells in stereo.
I pull myself up into sitting, limbs heavy, feeling like I’ve been holding my breath for hours.
Finally, I move. Slowly. I pull on my shorts, drag my hair into a ponytail with shaking hands, and head downstairs.
Jake’s leaning against the kitchen counter, one arm crossed over his chest, hand tucked into his armpit, staring down at his phone grimly. Damian’s at the table, tapping restless fingers against the wood.
They both look up the second I appear.
No smirks. No jokes. Just tension. Concern.
Jake sets his phone on the counter and lifts his green eyes to mine, serious in an unfamiliar way.
“We need to take you to Ryder’s.”
My stomach dips. “What? Why?”
He glances at Damian, something unspoken passing between them, and turns back to me.
“We’re dropping you off there. Then we’re heading to the garage to talk to Wyatt. We’ll all meet back up for dinner.”
“No.”
Damian stands, scraping the chair back and tilts his head at me. “Maxwell.” Just my name, impatient, edged with warning, and entirely unlike him.
Jake doesn’t even look at me. “Just get your shoes,” he says, pocketing his phone and grabbing his keys from the counter.
I hesitate, just for a second, waiting for someone to explain. But they don’t. Jake goes out to his car. Damian tosses my shoes at me. So I reluctantly do as I’m told, dread blooming beneath my skin.
Something’s about to blow up.
And I’m right in the center of it.
They leave me out front of Ryder’s and peel off towards the garage without waiting for Ryder to come to the door.
I knock once, and the door swings open before I can lift my hand again.
