Page 11 of Torment
“Guess what? I’m the bigger bully. Leave her alone or next time, I’ll cut out your tongue,” he says in a menacing tone as he draws out the last word. Billy coughs, desperately trying to get in some air, then scrambles to his feet and takes off down stairs and out the front door.
The boy walks towards me while I cradle my arm as hot tears stream down my face. He gets closer, and I try to scoot away.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he says softly as he squats down to look at me. His gray eyes look me over, and he extends a hand to me with a small smile.
“I’ll protect you. Everyone’s afraid of me anyway.”
CHAPTER TEN
Five fifty-three inthe morning I bust through the surveillance room door in Perdition. Slater sits with his back to me at one monitor wall with Jeremy hovering over his shoulder. Both turn when I walk in.
“There he is. Morning, Karson,” Jeremy greets, entirely too chipper for this hour, pulling me in for a handshake.
“You must be the only one of us that actually gets any sleep.” I pat him on the shoulder, then push by him to take a seat next to Slater.
“Nope. I survive solely on energy drinks,” Jeremy responds, shaking his almost empty Monster can. My eyes fall to the trash can by his seat. Judging by the contents, this is his fourth so far.
“That shit will kill you,” I say with a chuckle, then turn to face Slater. “Morning, cupcake. What am I doing here this early?”
“There’s something I need you all to see. We have a bit of a problem,” Slater says, his voice laced with concern.
Before I can ask what he’s talking about, the door bursts open. Maverick stalks into the room carrying a cup of coffee, followed by Elias and Cole. I still don’t particularly care for him. He’s still a limp dick tool bag–buthe, Ashlynn and Parker have become close. Maverick also trusts him, so it’s enough for me…for now.
Mav pulls up a chair next to me as Elias and Cole exchange pleasantries with Jeremy.
“Have you got anything more on our jumper?” Mav asks. The room goes silent, all attention focused on Slater. Jeremy stuffs his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“We’re working on retracing his steps through the property,” Slater begins. “It’s going to take some time. But that’s not why I called you guys in this morning.”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” Cole chimes in. Elias nods in agreement.
“Take a look at this,” Jeremy steps forward, pointing to one of the monitors.
The image is paused on a view of the second floor of Rapture. My skin begins to prickle when Slater presses play. We all watch in silence for a few minutes, before our spines all collectively straighten.
“What the fuck?” Elias grits between his teeth, pulling out his glasses and leans forward to get a better look.
“When was this?” I question. I was there all night last night and nothing out of the ordinary stood out. Granted, I didn't leave the first floor. None of our team said anything happened.
“Two days ago,” Slater answers. “Keep watching.” He fast forwards, skipping through the unimportant bits, stopping right around the time the club starts to close down. We watch as the group of bartenders and dancers make their way down to thefirst floor out of the club. Slater changes the camera footage to follow the group each step of their way out of the building. One of them starts to stumble a little, and the others help her out into the parking garage. They all stop allowing her to sit for a moment. One of them offers her a bottle of water, which she accepts. After some time, she seems to have pulled herself together and stands. The girls part ways–reluctantly–but Slater keeps the footage focused on the one girl, who starts to use the trunks of other vehicles for support as she begins to stumble some more.
She stops behind an older Ford pickup, hanging onto the tailgate for support as she doubles over and starts throwing up. Slater points to the screen to the right, showing a black cargo van speeding down to the first level where the girl is from the third.
I know where this is going.
My eyes flash between screens until the van reaches her, and without even stopping, the back door opens. A pair of arms reach out, grab the girl to pull her inside, then the van disappears.
“Tell me you got a plate,” I say.
“A vin, a face, something,” Maverick adds.
I turn to see Jeremy looking at his shoes.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I slam my fist on the desk.
“We’ve tracked this van all the way off of the property. I even got into the traffic cameras nearby, but we lost it. Whoever was driving must know where there are gaps in coverage and used it to swap vehicles. There were no plates on the van, and the vin plate had something covering it,” Slater informs us and the room falls silent.
Two nights ago Ashlynn was off, and if she isn't working I don't go in that cesspool. Looks like that’s about to change.
