Page 163 of Kill Feed

His shoulders shake as he presses one hand against the cage to keep himself upright, his fingers trembling against the metal. “I’m the reason you and Amani are in Kill Feed.”

“Why and how?” Dante growls, and I can see his jaw working from here.

Lucas swallows several times before forcing himself to answer, “I’ve been trying to get into Kill Feed for years. Ever since I found it on the dark web, I kept looking for a way in, paid a shit ton of money each time, but never got chosen. I got desperate…”

He wipes his face with a shaking hand before pulling it through his hair. “You don’t understand, man, everything I have is because of my parents, and the moment I don’t do as they say, they threaten to take it all away… I wanted something different in life; I wanted something for myself. So when I saw that flyer at the rock-climbing gym. I mean, I thought if you became a photographer for Phantom Productions… I will have direct access to Kill Feed’s operation.”

“So, you fucking used me?” I state clearly, letting the pieces settle into place with nauseating ease.

Lucas recoils. “No. It’s not like that. I just wanted to get myself into Kill Feed. I never thought—”

A laugh comes from the other side of the cage.

The hunter with the blue bow leans against one of the bars. “Oh, that’s where I know you from.”

The hunter with the red bow’s eyes light up with recognition. “Right! He’s the guy who basically harassed the scare actors in the restricted areas at Nightfall, trying to get to Miss Whitlock. He was about to be thrown out when the Queen herself arrived.”

Dante lets out a low scoff. “What did Selene tell you?”

“She said she admired my ambition… my determination,” he swallows. “She said she’d let me in under one condition.”

Dante starts laughing. He shakes his head slowly, almost disbelieving. “You fucking idiot.”

Lucas winces at that. “N-no… all I had to do was link their phones with Kill Feed.”

This fucking traitor. So that’s why he was so nervous at the café. God-fucking-dammit. This is partly my fault too. I left my phone on the table when I jumped up to go after Dante, right before our little scuffle at the counter.

A bitter laugh almost escapes me, and to think, after all this time, I thought Dante was the one who dragged me into Kill Feed. I blamed him, dissecting every word he’d said, every look he’d given me, convincing myself that he had orchestrated my entire descent into Kill Feed, dragging Amani and Lucas with, just to fuck with me.

“B-but I never wanted any of you dead, Adrian,” Lucas continue to ramble, “I wanted us all to win.”

Who is he trying to sell that lie to, himself?

“And now here you are,” Dante adds, his voice dangerously calm. “Completely out of your depth. Let me guess—you thought you could handle a survival game, only to discover you couldn’t stomach the blood and violence once it became real.”

Lucas drops his head, both hands gripping his hair as tears continue slipping down his face. “I didn’t think…” his voice breaks. “I thought I could. But when Amani died, I—”

“I almost killed him because of you,” I deadpan. Heat bleeds through my body, mouth dry as I continue, “I almost killed Dante because of you.”

“Adrian, I—”

“You’re the reason Amani’s dead.”

My stomach twists, folding onto itself as flashes of the bullet piercing her skull roll over and over in my head, burning the imagery into my skull. However, the image goes up in flames as my eyes now shoot towards Dante.

He isn’t dead…

Lucas turns desperately toward Dante. “Please, I’m not a threat to Adrian. I kept him alive. I’ve been with him this whole time.”

His mouth curves into a slow grin. “Oh, I’m not going to kill you,” he states, nudging his head towards the twins. “But they are.”

They move instantly. Reaching the cage, the hunter with the red bow slips her hands through the narrow openings before Lucas has time to react. One catches him by the back of his hoodie and drives him backward into the metal fencing hard enough to make it rattle before grabbing his wrist and tying it with her chain whip.

He cries out, twisting desperately as one reach through from the other side and catches his other wrist, helping her sister tie him down.

“Wait—” he mutters, turning his desperate gaze toward me as though I’m supposed to save him from his crucifixion. But why would I be his salvation after what he’s done?

Lucas bucks against the hunters, his shoes scraping uselessly against the concrete as the twins tighten their makeshift restraints. “Adrian, please!”