Page 43 of Pretty Wicked Secrets

Frank nods eagerly, quickly tapping the screen and then shoving it back into Maddoc’s hands. “Yeah, see? Right there! I told you. That’s Riley.”

Maddoc shows me the screen. “That’s your cell number?”

I nod.

His lip quirks up. Just a hair. Just for a second. “Last I saw that, it was in my office drawer.”

I lift my chin. “Guess you should learn to lock up shit that matters to you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Maddoc says, holding my gaze before slowly letting his eyes drop down to my wrists.

When he turns his attention back to Frank, I can’t stop myself from rubbing them. The cuffs are long gone, but I swear to fuck I can suddenly feel them again.

I can’t deal with Maddoc fucking with me like that, though. And it’s not what we’re here for.

“You know it wasn’t me that called,” I say to Frank. “Quit fucking lying. What did Chloe say?”

“I don’t know! Nothing! Thought it was you, honey gir—uh, Riley. I did! Maybe a butt dial or whatnot. You, uh, she.. there was no message. Just sounds.”

I frown. “There was a voicemail?”

He nods eagerly.

“Play it,” Maddoc says, shoving the phone back into Frank’s hands.

He does, and it’s just random noises. Not a butt dial, though. Chloe would have been more careful than that. But even though there’s nothing, my eyes suddenly sting as I realize what this means. The timestamp is yesterday. She was alive then, at least, and that’s more than I knew before.

I turn away as the guys make Frank replay it a couple of times, scrubbing at my face as I try to get myself back under control. We can do this. We can find her.

And when we do, I’m never letting her go again.

Logan records the voicemail on some fancy little electronic device, both Dante and Maddoc seeming to believe that he’ll be able to pull something useful out of the noise.

He probably will. I’m starting to think Logan can work fucking miracles.

“All good, princess?” Dante asks quietly, making me jump. I didn’t even hear him walk over.

“Fine,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “We done here?”

He glances back over at Frank. Maddoc is still pushing him. Questioning him on some shit about West Point and circling back around to questions about Chloe, but it’s pretty clear Frank doesn’t know anything. As always, he’s fucking useless.

“You want to leave him breathing?” Logan asks when it’s clear there’s nothing else to get from him.

Maddoc looks at me, but I keep my face blank. I don’t need them to kill him.

But I also won’t cry if they do.

Maddoc turns back to Frank. “We’ll be getting Riley a new phone to replace the one she gave Chloe.” He grabs a piece of paper, writes a number on it, and slaps it against Frank’s chest, where my father scrabbles to grab it. “If Chloe calls again, or if you remember or notice anything that you think might help us find her, you call that number.”

“Right.” Frank swallows, glancing down at the paper.

“Oh, and if you’re thinking of talking to anyone about this visit?” Maddoc adds, his voice hard. “Don’t.”

Frank shakes his head. “No, no, of course not! Not a word. Not a peep.”

The three Reapers share a look. Logan’s the one who steps forward, and Frank just about pisses himself.

“If West Point finds out we were here, I’ll find out that they know,” Logan says in a deadly monotone.

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