Page 83 of Chaos Crown

“What about our guests in the trunk?” Legend asked. “I’m not hauling two counts of twenty to life around with us. We need to figure out something to do with them. Now.”

“While we’re talking about the Black Letter Crew, there’s something you need to know,” Ivy began.

“What is it?”

“It was a tight thing getting Jack out of there. Quinn waited until past time to tell me where he was. I had to speed the whole way. I ended up at an old bed-and-breakfast at the end of town, and I wasted more time searching all the rooms for him. I finally found him when I heard a car pull up.”

I bolted up. “Did they see you?”

“No. It wasn’t easy with two busted arms, but I got Jack out through the broken window. It’s how he cut his neck,” she said. “But it’s when they came into the room. I looked back for a split second and, guys, I saw their faces.”

She had all our attention—including Cairo.

“It was two men. Our age. Got to be university students.” Ivy tried withdrawing from Legend and didn’t get anywhere. “Jacques, love, I appreciate your commitment to privacy, but I didn’t go to school with these people my whole life. I didn’t recognize them. You need to tell me about the nine we picked so I can tell if it’s one of them.”

“Describe them.”

“One of them had long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Thin. Small eyes, small mouth, and large nose—”

“Jackson Hyde.”

“Hyde,” I sputtered, recalling the anime-loving nerd from high school who always sat alone at a lunch table, scribbling in his notebook. “He’s in the Black Letter Crew?”

“I’m not surprised,” Jacques said. “I took a look in his room this week and it was an altar to death. Serial killer books and movies. Posters for true crime podcasts. He was one of the three I couldn’t prove was in the Crew, but highly suspected he was.”

“Describe the other one,” Cairo demanded.

“Short dark hair. Attractive. Square jaw and light brown eyes. Taller than Hyde, and in good shape.” She flicked between us. “Anything?”

Sharing looks, we shook our heads one after the other.

“I know too many guys that fit that description,” I said.

“A description that doesn’t match any of the nine,” Jacques added. “Was there anything else about him? Tattoo? Piercing? Expensive clothes?”

“No, sorry. No tattoos or piercings, and his clothes just looked normal to me.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I jerked a thumb behind me. “We’ve got two people who can help us fill in the blanks. Jacques, make a U-turn, I know where to go. It’s time we end this shit.”

***

QUINN

“Wake up. Wake up!”

I peeled my eyes open and fucking sunbeams assaulted them. I winced, snapping them shut.

“Not again, Cunningham. If you slip back into your coma, this is going to end early for you.”

Coma?That sounded nice right about now.

My body was the living definition of agony. Each breath was a hot poker through my chest. Fractured and broken bones. Bleeding nose. Busted lip. And my hair.

That bitch cut my hair.

Fury surged through me, burning through the pain and sluggishness. I forced my eyes open, focusing past the flashlights in my face to...her.

Fixed on Ivy, I almost didn’t notice the Bedlam Boys fanned around her, or the forest behind them.

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