Page 139 of The Deceptions
My keeper likes blood, too. He's just not as vocal about it.
"Yes! Of course. Sorry, boys. I forgot you were showing up here tonight. Let me pull it up." The entire time he speaks, there's a nervousness to his tone. Something shaky and off-putting.
Yup. He's hiding something.
And I'll find out what it is because he can't hide anything from my watchful eyes.
“Can we see it then?” Wilder asks impatiently, holding out his phone. He shakes his head, grumbling under his breath. That can only mean one thing. Our boss has summoned us to another meeting.
"Yes. It's right here," Bobby squeaks, sweating hard as he rolls his chair back and gestures for us to watch. I'm the first to jump into action, coming around the desk and hovering above Bobby. I could probably knock him out with one punch and find everything he's hiding. But Boss would disapprove ofmy violence against his most-trusted man. It's a real bummer. Because I yearn for the violence coursing through my veins. Especially when he presses play on the black and white security footage. “So, this was the night in question. It, um, got Mere walking with someone across the street as she was leaving the bar. There isn’t sound or anything, but…” he trails off.
All my emotions--or lack thereof--click off instantly at the sight of her in her nursing scrubs, standing just outsideX Marks the Spot. Her back is to the building as she looks up and down the street. She brings her phone out of her front pocket and taps it a few times before bringing it to her ear. If I could only hear what she's saying on the phone. Maybe I'd know who she's speaking with and what about. Her lips move a mile a minute, but I can't read them. Not with the camera zoomed so far out. She's almost an inky dot.
My fingers bunch, forming a fist when another figure meanders onto the screen with his hands in his pockets. He walks right up to her. Like he's comfortable being that fucking close to her. That motherfucker has no right. I stand tall, narrowing my eyes at the screen. I will not punch it. I will not fucking punch it!
I slam my fist into the wall above Bobby's head, making him yell and cover his skull. "M-mal!" he stutters, trembling in his damn loafers.
I take several breaths, shaking the drywall off my fist before I look at the screen which Bobby paused. "Play it again," I say with an odd sense of calm. Maybe it's because I know the fucker talking to her and leaning in when she hands him something, and he takes it discreetly, shoving it into his back pocket.
“Motherfucker!” Wilder shouts, balling his fists at his side. "Huxley!" he shouts again, filling the room with his disbelief. “That’s who she met with?” And possibly left with. I guess we’ll see if they ventured off together.
First things first, chop off Huxley’s appendages.
“Motherfucker, indeed,” I hum, leaning in closer and examining the video again until it finishes. "Play it again."
Bobby blinks at me several times and nods, playing the video a total of ten times for me. Over and over again, I watch them interact. They're familiar. Friendly, even. Huxley leans close to her like a lover, preparing for a kiss. But I know that's all wrong. Huxley hasn't touched anyone since my little ghost disappeared.
"That’s the guy?” Wilder grits out, letting all his emotions out on display.
Fool. He knows he needs to hide those pesky feelings when others are involved. But that's the thing about anger, it's hard to hide behind a mask of indifference. I send him a glare, begging him to school his features in front of Bobby.
Everyone knows Meredith is my sister and that I care for her. But no one needs to know how much I want her in my life. She’s the only family I have left. Well, the only one that counts, that is. My birth-giver doesn't deserve any sort of title. Or to be in my damn life.
Besides, when I find out where she went, I have exciting things to introduce her to. Like my favorite knife and torture chamber.
"It appears that way, Old Chap," I say, standing tall and grinning at him.
Wilder immediately frowns, shaking off his agitation. “Can you copy that for us?” he asks, gritting his teeth hard.
"Of-Of course," Bobby sputters, typing in something quickly and handing Wilder a USB. "It's all on there." He nods several times, sweat trickling down his forehead and onto his keyboard.
I wrinkle my nose. Disgust is taking me over as all my feelings click on again. It's an instant wave of rage and hate, fueling me to push past Wilder. My chest heaves as I stand in thehallway, looking at the crowd beyond the set of stairs separating the offices from the gambling.
The people around me buzz with life, on slot machines and card games, gambling their lives away. I’ve never understood the appeal or gotten the high from giving my money away. My money is mine. But to each their own. I'd rather soak in the blood of my enemies than ever hand over free money to Bobby. Maybe that's why he's so nervous. I wonder if he's skimming off the top.
My thrills come from the hunts. My prey running from me, begging me not to take their lives.
It’s music to my fucking ears.
“Mal,” Wilder grunts, grabbing my shoulder. I swing my gaze to him, narrowing my eyes. “We need to go straight home. Okay? Watch this again and reevaluate the situation.”
Reevaluate? Oh, no. Who needs to do that? Huxley Crewes was caught on camera with my missing sister on the fucking night she disappeared. The fucking enemy talked to her with a smile on his face. Easily pushed past her defenses and moved in for the kill.
He needs to die.
Or better yet...
I have an even better idea.
