Page 96 of Wicked Deceit
“Continue to play your role,” he says, gaining confidence. “And we’ll continue to track your location. My scouts are on the grounds of the school now and heading your way. Someone will be there shortly to retrieve you all. Do not endanger anyone else’s life.”
“That’s fine and dandy, but when it fucking comes time for my plan to happen, I’m saving my girlfriend first,” I growl out. “No matter if I fucking die, I’m getting her out.”
“Understandable,” he says solemnly. “And your plan, Mr. Cunningham?”
“When the lights fade, we make our escape,” I grit, rechecking the monitors with wide eyes.
Piper lies on the ground lifeless, and so does her mother. A black robe heads down the hall toward me.
“I’ve gotta go. I’ll call this number back if there are any complications. For now, my rendezvous point is at the maze entrance with my brothers.” Mentally, I go over the stupid-as-fuck plans only teenagers can make in the event of a disaster. And that’s precisely what this is—a goddamn disaster.
He sighs. “Mr. Benoit was sent to the hospital the moment the ambulance arrived. We arrived shortly after, taking over for the police. He sustained burn injuries, and the extent is not known right now. The fire is being put out as we speak. Your friends are MIA, for obvious reasons, I surmise. Stay undercover, Mr. Cunningham. You know as well as I do—these are dangerous people. They’ve killed many times over and won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your chest.” With those ominous words, he hangs up, leaving me in the same fucked up spot as before.
I hang my head, stuffing Kaycee’s phone back into my waistband. All this extra information floats around in my head. Kaycee. Veritas. Fucking psychos. I only have one option now because they may be on their way, but Veritas is no help to us. I’m on my own here, but if I can get her through the fucking boarded-up window, she’ll be safe and in my brothers’ arms.
I settle back into my seat and lean back, trying to look calmer than the storm brewing inside me. Determination pours through every ounce of my being when the door swings open, knocking into the wall behind it. Oscar rips off his mask, blood dripping down his black robes onto the floor, and he fucking grins. I don’t flinch when I raise a brow at him, presenting myself as calmly as I can.
“God, that was exhilarating!” he beams, rubbing his hands together. “You’re looking at the new Alpha. Did you see Piper’s tears? I think I got hard. That bitch never saw it coming, and her death has been on the cards since Magnolia’s bitch ass. Just one more piece of trash out of our way.” On the inside, I recoil at his brash words because he’s perfect for all this. Too bad Veritas is on their way, and they’ll all fucking pay for this.
I raise my brow, a malicious smile in place. “Congratulations, brother, it seems you are moving up,” I say, standing to clap his hand.
He snorts, pointing toward a closet near the back of the control room. “You too, brother. Your promotion waits for you. All you have to do is finish this last task. Man, you gonna… you know?” He thrusts his hips forward, biting his bottom lip. “The crowd would fucking love that with a knife in her, too. God. You got so fucking lucky.” The world goes dark and closes in on me, focusing on the one word. I want to smash his face for insinuating bullshit while thrusting his hips into the air. But knife. He said fucking knife.
“Man, I don’t fucking know anything that’s going on. What knife?” I ask, popping my knuckles against my palm.
He tilts his head with a smirk and nods toward the closet. All hope of getting answers disappears when he clams up, not uttering a fucking word when I follow him. Dread pools in my gut when he thrusts open a pair of closet doors. A red robe shines in the darkness of the dank closet, and my lips pop open. This is it. These are the same robes my father and his nitwit brothers had. This means….. I swallow the lump in my throat and force my breath into an even rhythm when the realization hits me square in the aching chest.
We’ve searched high and low, trying to figure out who the fourth horseman was. We’ve speculated frequently, thinking it was their dead brother who supposedly died in a car crash. Or some other mysterious person we didn’t know of yet. But that’s the thing about twists; you never see them coming. Because it’s me. I’m the fourth horseman, and I just got my promotion within the ranks—so long recruit status and hello to all-powerful horseman status.
“Welcome to the fucking Apocalypse, Famine,” Oscar whispers in awe, pulling out the red robe for me like it’s the fucking king’s. His eyes glimmer with respect and jealousy when he presents it to me with a bowed head. I see why these assholes let this power boost their egos. He’s treating me like I’m his goddamn God and savior.
I take off my black robe and mask, throwing them to the floor in disgust. Staring at the red robe in fake awe, I widen my eyes. My breaths pick up as it’s draped over my shoulders, laying heavy like bricks when I put my arms through the sleeves. This entire situation pushes down on me like I’m carrying the world on my back. And I have to keep pretending I’m okay and fucking excited to receive this.
Oscar reaches in, lifts the blood-red mask from its hook in the closet, and sets it in my trembling hands. I swallow hard, trying to tamp down my nerves. It stares back at me with white teeth and ominous black eyes with no soul behind it. It takes my breath away at what it represents. If I were in this completely, I’d be in genuine awe at the power this holds—at the power I would have within this organization.
“I’m the fourth horseman,” I mumble, tracing my fingers over the soulless eyes of the mask.
“It was meant for you, man,” Oscar whispers, looking down at the mask. Emotions burst through his stony exterior, proving that he has something deep inside of him that feels. Even if it’s for the wrong cause. He should be concerned about the people around him, not the power these objects hold. “It was never meant for anyone else. They had to test your loyalty, and now this kingdom is yours, too.” he whispers, gripping my shoulder in a tight squeeze. “But your last trial awaits,” Oscar whispers, tracing his finger down the mask I refuse to put on my face. “We gotta get you in that room, man. I can’t fucking wait until it’s my turn.”
“Is it the bitch?” I ask, straightening the robe, trying to dampen the worry brewing inside me.
Fuck—give me something, you psychotic tool. I try to peer over at the monitors displaying the rooms of the house. But I don’t get a chance. That fuckface leads me toward the door, looking back at me with that insufferable smirk plastered on his bloody face. He leads me out of the control room, down the dilapidated hallway, and stops before a closed-door at the end. An eerie silence falls over us and the entire house, filling my ears with nothing but static. At one point, Francesca’s screams were heard loud and clear from her torture, but now she’s dead and gone. The only other person left to inflict pain on is the woman behind this door.
“Make the rabbit regret coming to this school,” Oscar rasps with anticipation. Nodding toward the door, she sits behind. Resting a hand on my shoulder, he squeezes gently, and finally, my time comes.
“Bring him in. His test begins now,” Crowe shouts through the closed door, and my skin crawls at his demand.
“It’s your time to shine, Famine.” Oscar grins, gesturing for me to open the door and walk through. Walking through this door feels like a fucking trap, and my mind tells me to run for the hills, but my heart says the woman I love sits in there all alone and needs me. Whatever it takes to get her out of here, I will do it. “Welcome to the Ceremony.” My breaths shutter, remembering what Piper told me. This is the ceremony where I’ll have time with her alone. It’s my fucking time to shine and my fucking time to drag her ass out of here before they kill her.
Whatever it fucking takes.
So many thoughts race through my mind as I stare at the disgusting mold-covered door. With a heaving breath and without an ounce of hesitation, I slam through the door like I own the fucking place. And I guess in their eyes, I do. This is my house now. My god damn kingdom, and they should bow down before me. So, I’m going to fucking own it now and save Kaycee. When the door slams behind me and clicks shut, my eyes glue to the broken and helpless face of the only girl I’ll ever love.
I force a heavy mask of confidence on my face, smirking at her appearance. My smile widens at the sight of her tied to a chair, bloodied and bruised, and I cock my head. Tightness sears like a fucking knife tearing through my fucking chest at the sight of her eye swollen shut and crusted over with dried blood. I don’t have to utter a word for the betrayal to smack her in the face, and a small light fades from the one eye she can open. All her hopes and dreams vanished the moment she saw me. And I want to kick my own ass.
"Carter…" she whispers with her lips popping open in shock.
What I wouldn’t give to eradicate every person in this room with one look, throw her over my shoulder, and fucking save her. But at the sight of them and their smug faces, I know what hides beneath their robes, and one false move and we’re dead.
