Black eye, busted lip, broken ribs.
Like a blowtorch to my flesh my body heats and breaks out in a sweat.
“Oh shit, this whole time . . . she’s been trying to tell me.” I set eyes on Gia as I feel the blood drain completely from my head. “He took her.”
Thirty-five
Four days earlier…
Trix
“What the hell was that all about?” Angel bounces alongside me as we make our way out of Caesars at a quick pace.
“I don’t know.” I’m only half lying. I do know that Drake is involved in some bad shit, and because Mason is always protecting his little brother, he’s been dragged in by default. What I’m confused about is Hatch’s aggression.
He’s always been a take-no-bullshit guy, but I’ve never felt unsafe with him. He’s never forced me to do anything against my will, and even after everything that happened between him and Gia, she made it clear he never took away her choices. But tonight was different, and for the first time, I felt genuine fear that he’d hurt me.
“Sucks we had to leave. I was having fun!” Kayla giggles, still drunk and completely oblivious.
Santos punches out a quick text, and by the time we exit the casino, our limo is waiting for us. We climb in, and even though I’m now safely inside the luxury car, I’m unable to take a full breath.
Mason’s still up there, which means anything could be happening. Going by the expression on Drake’s dad’s face, I’d say things are going to get worse before they get better. Mason’s not the type of guy who backs down when challenged. I just hope he doesn’t do anything to wedge himself in deeper with these criminals.
It’s a semi-quiet ride back to Zeus’s, except for Kayla who sang along with the radio while dancing in her seat. Too drunk to drive, the other girls will get a ride home in the limo while Santos grabs my keys and ushers me to my car.
“Come on.” He opens the passenger door and I slide in, grateful he’s driving me to Mason’s rather than dropping me at home.
He pulls out of the lot, and my mind tumbles over everything. I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. If I’d just backed off, ignored Hatch when he came back to town, given up on my quest, then Mason and Hatch wouldn’t be out to kill each other.
The Las Vegas lights streak by my window, and I close my eyes from the sensory overload. My head spins and my heart aches. I just want this all to be over.
Not sleeping, but somewhere in between, I register that we should’ve been to Mason’s house by now. Wait, how does Santos even know where Mason lives? I blink open my eyes and dread falls heavy in my belly. We’re headed out of Las Vegas.
Fuck! How did I not see this coming?
I swallow back the urge to scream and fear looking at the man next to me. The person who has been responsible for protecting all the girls at Zeus’s. The man who has protected me, been my friend, for nearly four years.
There’s no use in playing stupid. “How long have you been planning this?” The fearlessness in my voice shocks me.
He doesn’t answer right away, so I turn to him then and fight the urge to burst into tears. His jaw ticks, and I swear if I didn’t know better I’d think his eyes were glistening.
“How long?” My heart crushes, and the pain seeps into my limbs.
He clears his throat. “Not long.”
I nod and return my gaze to the inky black night. “Hatch?” It doesn’t make any sense. He knows where I live, slept in my house. If he ever wanted to kidnap me, he’s had plenty of opportunities to do it before now.
“No.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel.
No? I blink and rake through every possible explanation as to why I’d be an asset to anyone. But rather than come up with an answer, I only settle on one question.
I turn toward him again. “Why?”
His lips pull into a thin line. “They have Diane.”
“What?” My questioning shriek fills the small car. “Who does? Where is she?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t know.”
“Santos—”
“I can’t talk about this with you. Please, just . . .” He shakes his head. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Trix.” A single tear races down his cheek.
Shit, this is it. “It’s okay. I understand.” And I do. He’s protecting someone he loves. I’d do the same thing. “I’m . . . I’m not mad at you. You did what you had to do.” My last words are spoken on a whisper.
I need to call someone. 911. Without being too obvious, I walk my fingers toward my clutch that’s between us on the center console. If I could just get to my phone, I might—
“They took your phone.”
All the air rushes from my lungs. “Are they going to kill me?”
“They said no one would get hurt.” There’s doubt in his voice.
So that’s it. I’m completely at the mercy of God knows who.
That leaves me with only one thing to do.
I close my eyes and dip my chin.
Dear Father in heaven . . . help me.