Seriously?
Laid out on his desk, he has flight manifest information. Apparently, he plans on going somewhere.
“You need to hurry. Anyone can walk in on you. You need to find what you’re looking for and leave.” I grind my teeth at Madison’s warning.
“I know that!” I hiss out loud, even though she can’t hear me.
Tossing my clutch on the desk, I move on, toward the bookcase. I search through the books, opening some that have frayed edges, but they’re all just for looks. I don’t think he’s ever cracked any of these open. Starting to grow frustrated, I glance around the room frantically.
There has to be something.
I look at my reflection in the huge ornate mirror hanging on the wall. Squinting my eyes, I’m not sure if the darkness is just playing tricks on me. I close the distance, and sure enough, there’s a gap between the wall and the mirror big enough to stick my fingers through. Before I can think better of it, I grip each side of the mirror, my biceps burning from the weight, and I lift. My eyes widen when I see what’s behind the wall.
As gently as I can, I place the mirror on the floor, leaning it up against the wall. With a shaking hand and pounding heart, I run my palm over the safe that’s built into the wall. Only someone guilty of something would have a safe hidden in the wall like this. There’s a dial. I lick my dry lips and try different dates. I try Madison’s death.
Nothing.
I try to come up with random numbers, but none of them work. With a frustrated sigh, I bend, lifting the mirror back.
By the time I turn back toward the bookcase, I’m sweating and out of breath from the weight of the mirror and the strength it took not to drop it. I run my shaking fingers through my hair.
I need to find a way into that safe, but I don’t have enough time tonight. It’s too risky. Even now. Madison was right. I’ve been gone too long already. I’m just about to turn back around and slip out when something catches my eye.
My eyes gravitate toward the spine of a book on the shelf. The title has my stomach churning. My brows tug down as I cross the room. Carefully, I slip it from its place, and my nose and eyes burn with pressure.
Why They Kill.
I open it, and a picture drops to the floor. My breath catches when I bend to lift it. My hands tremble violently when I scan the photograph. It’s all of them again—in one picture. And where are they? At the kissing rock.
My sister is nowhere in the photo. There’s not even a date, but it makes me wonder when it was taken. How many girls did they take to that rock and kill? I study the picture. There’s a bottle of Jack resting on the rock. Baz has his arm slung around Marcus; Zach and Vincent are posing, and Trent is doing the same. The only thing I’m able to process is one more player. Who took the photo?
Who am I missing in all of this?
As always, my gaze finds its way back to Baz. Lingering on his younger, carefree self.
Has he always been a part of all of this?
I try to wrack my brain, my memories, for his part in all this, but he’s not in any of those memories. He was obviously part of something, this picture is proof of that, but why can’t I remember? He was gone, on vacation in Brazil for a while, that could be why, but something tells me it’s not it. I’m missing something.
My grip tightens on the photograph. This is proof. It may not be proof they killed my sister, but it’s proof enough. They’re there at the kissing rock. I just need to prove they frequented that spot. Maybe often drank at and brought their conquests there.
“Nosy little thing, aren’t you?”
My heart drops into my stomach at the voice. My eyes slam shut, and my body vibrates with fear. Slowly, I glance over my shoulder to find Zach closing in on me. I can’t make out his expression. I can’t tell how angry he is that I was snooping through his stuff. I expect him to stop, but he advances until his front is pressed to my back.
My swallow is loud. The sound of my heart is like an alarm blaring. Like steel drums in my chest. It’s a fucking siren, just begging to be heard. Fear climbs its way up my throat as I stare at Zach over my shoulder. He’s crowding me into the bookshelf. Way too close for comfort.
This is wrong.
So fucking wrong, but I’m too scared to move.
“Like snooping, do you, Scarlett? Finding anything of interest?” His words are ice. They cause a shiver to race down my spine. He must like that because his hips thrust forward a tiny bit, and I suck in a sharp breath. It’s as if he can smell my fear. He’s like an animal, closing in on its prey. His hand settles on my hip. It’s an intimate touch. Much too intimate for us.
“I … I was just … t-taking a call, and I-I needed privacy-y.”
Zach chuckles, bending his head near my ear. I feel his breath ghosting across my skin. I can also feel the tears threatening to escape.
This was stupid. Why did I think I could do this?
“Isn’t this cute?” he whispers, lips dangerously close to the shell of my ear. “You’re scared, aren’t you?” His fingers start to dig into my flesh, and I wince in pain, my tears blurring my vision.
“Interesting reading m-material,” I stutter, cautiously turning to face him. We both look down at the book, and Zach chuckles.
“I’m a connoisseur of all things, princess.” He takes the book from my trembling hands and slips it back onto the shelf in its rightful place. He does all this without taking a step back. I feel his erection prodding into me. He’s getting off on this. On my fear.
Zach leans in, placing his hand on the shelf above my head and his other hand that’s still on my hip suddenly drifts. My eyes widen.
No, no, no.
Acidic bile rises from my gut. I can feel Madison fading. Why is she leaving me? Why didn’t I listen to her?
He trails the tips of his fingers down my legs, under the hem of my dress. My breath gets lodged in my throat. Zach’s eyes are blazing, his head slowly leaning closer to mine.
“You’re a very naughty girl, Scarlett. But you know that already, don’t you?”
His lips are just about to touch mine, and I close mine, leaning into him. His fingers graze the edges of my panties. His breaths ghost across my lips, and right when I feel the impending kiss, the touch of his fingers against my pussy lips, I place my palm against his chest, and when he least expects it, I push.
With fire and disgust in my eyes, I grit out, “If you ever lay even one finger on me, I’ll kill you.”
He glares down at me and surprisingly takes a step back. “Well played, bitch.”
I smirk. “Hurt your feelings, did I? Don’t take it personally, Zach, but you don’t hold a candle to Baz.”
With that, I snatch my clutch off his desk, turning on my heel, my throat and eyes burning as I hurry out. I’m shaking. Scared completely shitless as I make my way back up to the top floor. I pause just before stepping into the billiard room when I hear my name.
My heart starts to pound even harder for other reasons now. Halting my steps, I peek around the corner, listening in on the conversation in the billiard room. I know I shouldn’t be trying to spy on him, but if I want info on Madison, I need to listen to these conversations, even if it jeopardizes my relationship with Baz.
“You can’t possibly be serious, Seb?” Marcus asks.