Page 31 of Hunting Ground

“No that’s…that’s okay.” I glance down at Jonah’s bloodied face, at how he’s definitely not breathing, then back up into Ronan’s face. There’s no remorse in his expression, and certainly no regret. He holds my face in one hand to study me, but before I can think to say anything else, a snarled threat makes me jump.

Right.

Cletus.

“I would’ve never lived down being killed by a man named after a shoe,” I whisper, causing Ronan to crack a smile.

“I think the name has been around a bit longer, Sable,” he informs me with a soft chuckle. “But uh, I get your meaning. I don’t think I could come to your funeral. I’d be too embarrassed.” To my surprise, he waits for me to move, then follows right at my back as I make my way back around the carousel.

Cletus is closer to the carousel than I remember. He’s panting, his hands empty, and his mask is gone. In a way that feels very detached from the current situation, I kneel down in front of him, between Ansel and Adrien, to study his face as he glares death at me from pale eyes.

“Is this all really because I dumped water on him?” I ask slowly, my small wounds burning. "Seriously?”

A slow, unhappy smile curls over Cletus’s lips, twisting his face into something unpleasant. “If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been some other bitch who pissed him off. He was looking for an excuse,” the man sneers, a rough laugh in the words.

Adrien is suddenly beside me, his hand on Cletus’s throat. “What did we say about bad language, my friend?” he asks in a sing song voice, his other hand shooting forward. There’s a crack and a cry, then Cletus is reeling back against the carousel, holding his broken fingers to him as he closes his eyes in a now-white face.

I spare Adrien a glance, unable to see his face behind the mask, though I’d be willing to bet he’s grinning. Sick, dark joy radiates off of him, in the same way violence had simmered from Ronan when he’d killed Jonah.

“Where’s Lily?”

“I don’t know who that is,” Cletus grits out, glaring at me again.

“The bride’s victim. And where’s her body?” I demand, not raising my voice any louder than it needs to be. “I killed her in the arcade, so where did she go?”

Surprise flickers in his gaze and he glances at the men, like he expects them to refute my claim and say they killed her. But when none of them do, Cletus’s gaze finds mine again, this time with something almost like fear. Not quite, I think to myself a second later as I watch him, but oh so close.

“I don’t know,” he snaps finally, once more glancing at the men. But I snap my fingers in front of his face, dragging his attention back to me.

“Hey, so, you can be afraid of them if you want, but the longer I have a reason to talk to you, the longer before they hurt you,” I tell him sweetly before rocking back on my heels. “And I think you do know. So…” I roll my shoulders. “Where are they, my unfortunately named friend?”

Cletus wavers I can see the indecision on his face, along with the way he’s desperately trying to think of a friend. “If I tell you, then you let me go,” he bargains at last. “You tell them not to kill me. It’s not like I’m the one who brought you here anyway. You killed Jonah, and I won’t stand in your way of getting out of here.” His words get faster the longer he talks, and I glance up at the two men standing on either side of us.

“Okay,” I agree after a moment of mulling over the idea. “That’s fair. You tell me where she is, and I let you go.”

“You…you promise?” There’s a note of suspicion in his voice, but I look at him with an open, honest expression in my eyes. Or what I hope passes for one, anyway.

“Yeah. Promise. Pinky swear, if you’re into that, though there’s no way I’m touching your hands.” My lip curls in distaste as I look down at his bruising, broken fingers. “Full offense meant. Those look awful.”

“Heard they picked her up at least a half hour ago,” Cletus snaps finally, like he doesn’t want to give up the information. “Her and Shelly–the bride, I mean. The others are set up on the other side of the parking lot in that old roller rink. That’s where your friend is.” He hesitates, then adds, “Though I wouldn’t bet much on her being alive.”

That’s troubling. My heart twists in my chest and I get to my feet, one hand on my hip as I run the other hand through my hair.

Adrien glances my way and I shrug with a sigh. “God, why can nothing be easy?” I grumble, just as he swoops down and grabs Cletus by the hood.

“Hey–hey wait–you fucking promised–”

“Oh, I lied,” I’m quick to interject. My heart flutters as I turn to watch, refusing to take my eyes off of Cletus as Adrien forces him to turn around, until his face is on the edge of the spinning carousel platform. “Yeah, no, you were absolutely never getting out of here, Cletus. Brought this on yourself, though. You–”

Adrien kicks him in the back of the head. The impact jars Cletus’s head forward, and I swear I hear his teeth crack on the edge of the carousel.

“Can’t even wait for me to be done talking?” I sigh at Adrien, rolling my eyes as my stomach tries to crawl up and out of my esophagus. Cletus moans, reaching up to clutch at his face, but Adrien really doesn’t care.

He laughs, low and dark, before grabbing Cletus’s hair to reposition him before he kicks him again.

The second kick stuns him.

The third kick breaks apart his jaw. This time I really do hear bone snap, and Cletus goes limp as his jaw breaks and dislocates. His eyes go vacant, though he continues to moan.