Sever off the head and watch the body fall
See you in the depths, that ain't a metaphor
Sex, blood, fashion, dripping holy water
— Devilish by Chase Atlantic
They said that if one held onto something too tight, it would break.
The world had stopped on its axis as soon as I exited the house, the fear of possibly losing the woman I loved crippling me. She was standing frozen in the middle of the road as a truck barreled towards her. I shouted her name as I sprinted down the driveway, but her focus was fixated on what was in front of her.
Move, damn it!
I reached out to grab her arm, but it was too late. The truck had passed and carried on, leaving a gust of thick smoke that clogged my throat. I stumbled back as the horrors of reality awaited me, my mind coming to a standstill. The smog had clouded my vision, but I could still make out the woman in black walking away.
She was gone, the thought repeatedly echoed in my head.
Then I heard the faint sound of a groan.
"Summer!" I called out, the misery thick in my voice as I pushed through the cloud of smoke.
She was curled on the pavement with a hand clutching her head. I crouched down to pick her up in my arms, hugging her close to my chest as my eyes darted toward the trees ahead where the Marchioness disappeared to. Chasing her now wouldn't do us any good.
I spun around and sprinted across the street to my car.
"I was wrong," said Summer.
It was an excruciating five-minute drive to the administration office and another walk through hell as I carried Summer to the second floor. The nurse, alongside seven well-trained bodyguards, were already there when we arrived. They guided us through the hallways and to the executive lounge at the end of the room.
I placed Summer down on the couch, and I could see the protest in her eyes as she stared up at me. Stepping aside, I offered the bodyguards a curt nod, and they all exited the room at once, closing the door behind them.
The nurse sat next to Summer with the first aid kit on her lap, and then she held up two fingers. "How many fingers am I holding?" she asked.
"Two," Summer answered.
I stared at Summer in mute silence as the nurse continued the standard check-up procedure. The events of tonight replayed in my head, looping endlessly. I waited for the rage to come, but it didn't. My chest ached, yet it felt empty. I was set on one thing, and that was to kill the two people who were involved in tonight's incident. Consequences be damned.
Leisurely going through this impending issue wasn't the right course of action anymore. The Marchioness found out about us searching for her, and she came out of hiding. We expected her hunting dogs, but she herself, came out dressed in black, ready for blood. She had wanted Summer to die tonight, and it was perplexing. I assumed that she would take her time to lure us into a trap. Her reckless decision was confusing. It was almost as if she felt threatened, which didn't make sense. Perhaps there was an important detail I had missed.
Summer jerked when the nurse pressed a cold compress to her head, her eyes narrowing to slits as she glared up at me.
"I'm fine, Gray," she insisted.
"Stay here," I demanded.
"But—"
I shot her a cold look that instantly had her cowering. Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes dropped to her lap. I didn't need her arguing with me right now, not after the close call. She fumbled with her fingers anxiously, and my jaw tightened. Fuck. I didn't want her thinking that I blamed her for tonight.
"Could you give us a moment," I said, peering down at the nurse, who nodded and got up without question.
Summer straightened her spine, but she kept her eyes downcast. I waited until the door closed before getting down on my knees in front of her. I could feel my resolve breaking when I tipped her chin upward to find her eyes brimmed with tears.
I exhaled a breath. "You're safe now."
"I know," she nodded meekly, a tear slipping from her eye. "I shouldn't have...God, I don't know why I went after her. I'm so stupid."
"It's over," I said grimly, blocking off the memories. "None of this is your fault."
"I'm so sorry, Gray."
Her voice was choked as more tears slipped from her eyes, and I pressed my forehead to hers. I had almost lost her tonight after stupidly letting my guard down. It was unusual of me to do so, and a fucking rookie mistake. Ezekiel was right; a few years away from this hell of a life made me rusty. I had to get my head straight. Luck was on our side tonight, but that might not be the case in the future.
"You're safe now," I murmured reassuringly. "The nurse will finish the check-up, and once everything is okay, the bodyguards will take you to the Crow's Nest. I need you to do something for me. Are you up for it?"
She nodded, and I pressed a kiss to her temple.
● ● ●
"Is there a location on the truck?" I asked as soon as I walked into the Crow's Nest.
The manager approached me. "It's on the west side of the campus. We've already informed security about it, and we should hear an update in ten minutes."
I leaned forward on the metal railing, and my eyes narrowed as I scanned each screen ahead. The Crow's Nest was created after the scandal that happened a few years ago. It was my father's approach to a better precaution of what I caused. He didn't want to go through another mayhem that would cost him a few billion dollars. Brickfields had normal CCTV cameras that were regularly tracked by the security team. Then there was the Crow's Nest, a hidden group that existed on the second floor of the administration office. There were seventy people involved directly, monitoring at least a thousand hidden cameras in the public areas of the campus.
"Show me the whole thing," I demanded.
The manager nodded to one of the members, and in a separate large screen to the left side of the room, the video played. I crossed my arms over my chest.
The driver was a man wearing a black hat and a mask that covered half of his face. He wore a black leather jacket and jeans, his hands concealed by a pair of gloves. He was semi-built and at least six-foot tall. He had his head down the entire time as he walked through the sidewalks of Brickfields to the truck that was parked by the west gate, a strategic location since it was closest to the soccer house.
I needed him to look up, but he didn't. His face remained hidden as he drove unsuspectingly down the roads. My fists clenched tight as the scene of Summer approaching the Marchioness came, and I glanced away.
"I saw his face."
I spun around at the voice. Summer was staring at the screen with her eyebrows furrowed. The betrayal and disappointment shone in her eyes, and when she looked at me, the sadness clouded those emotions. She shook her head lightly, and I understood that she didn't want to reveal who it was in here.
"I need you to look into the other cameras," I said, and she nodded.
We moved down the platform to the massive screen ahead.
"Mr. Gray," the manager warned, but I raised a hand to stop him.
If there was anyone who could spot something all seventy of them had missed, it was Summer. Her family had trained her to be observant, to notice every detail. I let her scan through each camera carefully. The manager stood by her right, looking apprehensive and somewhat offended. I must've bruised his ego by allowing someone else to look through what was supposed to be their jobs. I scoffed mentally. If only he knew that her family was the co-owner of Brickfields.
"There!" Summer exclaimed minutes later, her finger pointing to the screen. "Third row from the left, sixtieth camera down."
They all glanced at each other unsurely, none of them daring to move.
"You're all taking orders from Miss Hale now," I snarled, sweeping a threatening glare across the room. I didn't have the fucking time to deal with their damaged pride.
The manager hurriedly instructed the team to put the camera up on the screen to the left side of the room. Summer squeezed my bicep, and I let out a long breath to calm the rising annoyance inside me. They let the clip roll until Summer ordered them to stop, and they followed with great reluctance.
"Zoom in," she said.
"Miss Hale," said the manager. "That's just a woman in a black dress."
For fuck's sake. "Did I allow you to speak?" I remarked.
"But—"
"Now," Summer barked out in command.
I could hear the barely leashed anger in her voice, and the room fell into silence as they quietly obeyed. I peered over at her in amusement. It turned out that Miss Bubbly could crack the whip. She stepped closer to the screen with her head tilted slightly to one side, and my eyebrows pulled together.
It was the Marchioness.
She sauntered down the cobblestone walkways, wearing a short-sleeved black dress that reached her knees and a pair of black heels. Her hair was curly and dark brown. I could make out the smirk on her lips, her identity concealed by the mask she wore. People walked past her without sparing a second glance. There was nothing suspicious about her, hence probably why all seventy of these idiots didn't bother cross-checking her.
But something else caught my attention, and Summer noticed it too.
She whirled around to face me, her eyes wide in horror.
"Is Isaac on the way?" she questioned with urgency.
"He's nearby."
Nodding, she grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room with her. The bodyguards were instantly shadowing us until we reached the executive lounge.
"Knock when Mr. Brooke-Andreas arrives," I said.
I shut the door and slipped the lock into place before facing Summer. She was seated on the couch with her hands on her lap, her eyes distraught as they sought mine. I sat beside her on the couch.
"I'm furious," she sneered. "But I'm trying to control myself."
"Who was the driver, Summer?"
"I was wrong. It wasn't Jordan."
"Then who was it?"
She squeezed her eyes shut as her lips trembled. "It was Nick."
"Okay."
Her eyes snapped open as I stood to my feet, her hand instantly grabbing mine. She shook her head heavily, and I flashed her a condescending smirk.
"I just want to talk to him," I said.
"How do you even know where to find him?" she expressed angrily.
I shrugged, withdrawing my hand from her grip and starting towards the door. I barely got a few steps in when she stood in front of me with her arms spread to her sides. The defiance radiated off her strongly. I released a mocking scoff, then threw her over my shoulder in one swift movement. Her fists started pounding on my lower back as I took long strides to one of the private boardrooms. I kicked the door open and sat her down on the table, caging her with the weight of my body.
"We need a plan, Gray! We can't storm in, guns blazing!" she bellowed.
"We had a plan, and look at where we are right now!" I snapped, dots lining my vision as the need to break every bone in Nick's body overpowered me.
"That's not a good reason!"
"You almost fucking died because of that bloody bastard, and you're saying it's not a good reason?!" I snarled, pinning her down until she was leaning back, propped up on her elbows. "Should it only be a good fucking reason when you're dead and buried six feet underground?"
"That's not what I fucking mean!"
I let out a dark chuckle. "Yeah? Well, I just wanted to talk to him."
"Don't give me that damn bullshit," she spat as she thrashed under me. "I don't know much about what you do in that fucked up secret life of yours, but I know there won't be any talking."
"Baby, last time I checked, you're part of this fucked up secret life of mine."
She scoffed. "And last time I checked, I've been deceived my whole life."
I tugged her roughly to the edge of the table. She gasped as she steadied herself, glaring up at me in defiance. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and tipped her head up, our lips mere inches away from colliding. The passion mixed with indignation coursed through us like electricity. Cursing me under her breath, she grabbed the collar of my shirt and smashed her lips to mine. A throaty groan left my lips when she wrapped her legs around my waist, and my hand slipped under her skirt. I brushed my fingers against her lacy thong, and she moaned loudly.
"You better keep your voice down, baby," I taunted with a smirk. "The walls in this building are damn thin."
She scowled. "Fuck you."
"That's the plan."
Desire filled her gaze as she looked at me, and I leaned in to kiss her when a knock sounded at the main door.
"Fuck," I cursed.
We both huffed out a breath, and she unhooked her legs from around my waist. Stepping back, I squared my shoulders and helped her down the table. I exited the boardroom before her and headed straight for the door. I undid the lock and opened it to find Isaac looking like a total wreck. I moved aside to let him in. Summer was already seated on the couch.
"Did you find any clues in the truck?" I questioned.
Isaac heaved a shaky breath as he raked his fingers through his hair, his other hand pulling out a red envelope from his jeans pocket. He handed it over to me, and I ripped the paper open without hesitation. Summer was standing to my left in a heartbeat, while Isaac moved over to my right, their eyes trained on the new letter.
They say, don't judge a book by its cover.
Jordan was shaken up when he found out about what Nick did in high school. Did he ever mention that he dated the star quarterback who bullied him? It was a secret, though. After all, Mr. Quarterback was quite famous with the ladies. It would ruin his reputation if people knew the truth. Sadly, Mr. Quarterback tried to end their relationship. Did Nick mention how he first met Jordan at the rooftop? He lied. He didn't try to kill himself because of the bullying. He didn't care about that since he had such an amazing relationship before it went downhill.
"What kind of sick game is this?" Summer croaked out; her hand wrapped tightly around my arm.
I was as baffled as she was at the revelation. I had known Nick for over three years now since Jordan introduced him to us, and not once did I see him as someone who'd harm another. He was always cheerful, a light-hearted person who never stopped smiling.
So why did Nick try to jump off the rooftop that day? Well, that's because he stabbed his dear boyfriend twenty times the night before and dumped his body on the river. Why? That's because Mr. Quarterback threatened to report him for sexual assault. You see, things didn't go as planned for Mr. Quarterback when he tried to break up with Nick. He didn't expect to be beaten up and raped.
"Sweet Jesus," Isaac cursed, stepping away.
Summer sucked in an audible breath as she stumbled back onto the couch, and I crumpled the paper in my hand.
"We need to find Nick," I said.
Isaac shook his head. "That's not possible."
"Why?" Summer questioned.
"He was found dead inside the truck. He took a bullet straight to the head."