Page 106

“I owe it to Caitie. To Ryan and Natalie. I have to see this through.”

Bailey was too pale. Her throat bobbed like she might retch. Wes had expected tears, but only spiraling pain shone in her eyes. She had to be in shock. “Bailey—”

“I’m not leaving!”

The longer he fought her on staying, the longer they risked someone finding them in the condo. “Fine. See what you need to, and then we’re getting the hell out of here.”

She nodded, shivering, hugging herself. “I’ll be fast. I just have to see.”

He toed open the second room, fantasy. She followed him in. Like the first room, this one had the same art and wall of shelves. Each held jewelry that couldn’t have been worth much. Certainly not the lives each shelf represented. The words at the top of the back wall churned bile in his stomach.

You get what you want. Me.

“That’s Natalie’s,” Bailey whispered.

He followed her gaze to the necklace and earrings displayed next to the number eleven, only a few shelves from the sorority girl from Columbia who had been found in an alley.

Ashen-faced and swallowing like she was trying not to vomit, Bailey walked out as though her legs couldn’t hold much longer. “Last room. Then we go.”

Fuck. He hated this.

They entered the room labeled Control. It was staged like the first two. The art. The shelves. Each shelf held a pair of glasses, and above them were two rows of text.

You can’t see without me.

I never see you.

“That’s enough.” Wes gripped Bailey around the waist and hauled her toward the door. “We’ve seen it. Now we have to call it in. We’re leaving. Now.”

She walked like a zombie, stiff and disjointed. Her head snapped to the side as he dragged her down the hall with the eighteen numbers.

“Close your eyes, Bailey.”

Her legs gave out, and he caught her as a full-body sob shook her. He carried her through the living room and out of the apartment, holding her close, unsure what to say. She was in shock. They needed to get out of there and call for help. But he wasn’t sure she could stand up on her own in the elevator.

Wes stroked the back of her head and tried to absorb everything she’d seen, praying that she would forget. “I’m going to take care of this. Everything will be—”

Her phone rang. She jerked back and grasped her purse.

“Ignore it.”

“No one calls me unless it’s an emergency.”

“We’re in an emergency.”

She wiped her face and pulled out her phone. “It’s Angus. Something’s wrong with Matt.” She sniffled and cleared her throat. “Hello—”

“Damn it, Bailey,” Angus yelled loud enough for Wes to hear.

Stunned, she blinked as if trying to snap out of the haze, confused about why anyone would yell at her. “What?”

“You stupid, stupid, stupid girl.”

Wes inched closer. His molars clenched. He reached for the phone. She batted his hand away.

“Where’s Matty?” Fear cracked in her voice.

“With Erick,” Angus snapped. “He knows where you are.”