Page 197 of What We Become

“Turn it off,” I say, and I hate how thin my voice sounds. “Please turn it off.”

“I’m trying.” Milo’s fingers move so fast across the hidden panel they blur. “The room controls are locked out. Something else has the feed. I can’t shut it off from⁠—”

“Happy birthday, Sage.”

The voice cuts through the room.

Tinny. Distorted. Coming from the speakers hidden somewhere behind the screens.

Everything inside me stops.

Stephen.

The room warps. My knees go. Every screen in here is still playing me.

“I’m calling security,” Holden says, dragging his shirt on and reaching for his phone. “If they’ve taken over the room, they might have access to⁠—”

“I want to go home.” I don’t recognize my own voice. “Now.”

“Sage, we need to⁠—”

“Now, Holden!”

Nobody argues with me.

I don’t even remember everyone getting dressed.

Next thing I know, the cool air of the hallway is against my skin, Knox’s shirt is barely buttoned over me, and we’re moving as a unit through the red-lit corridors of Unholy Desires with the urgency of a bomb squad.

The concierge appears, eyes wide. “Is everything⁠—”

“Get Odin. Tell him someone’s taken over our room’s screens and speakers,” Holden snaps, not stopping. “Security needs to lock the building down.”

She doesn’t even blink before she peels off and sprints for the back office.

Micah’s hand finds the small of my back before we reach the doors, steering me the way he steers drunks out of the club without letting them notice they’re being steered.

The parking lot outside is slick with rain as we head for the black SUV. Knox has the keys out before we’re even through the door. Eli takes them from him. “I’ll drive.”

Knox opens the back for me, shields me from the rain, and follows me into the rear row. He fastens my seatbelt before his own, then draws me against his side. Holden takes the front passenger seat while Milo and Micah climb into the middle row. The air inside is clammy as we pull out of the parking lot.

I try to slow my breathing, try to lace my fingers together so my hands stop shaking. My phone in my purse vibrates, and a moment later, the guys’ phones vibrate too—the catch fired.

Fuck.

I don’t want to look. Every atom in me is on high alert, fighting to keep from coming undone. But curiosity is a parasite, and even now, even after everything, I let it burrow in.

I pull my phone from my purse. The message is from an unknown number.

You didn’t like my gift, pet?

The text sits on my home screen. It isn’t the emoji that does it. It’s pet—Brock’s word, with his hand in my hair. Stephen’s word, through a brick wall. And now it’s sitting on my phone next to a little cartoon tear. Knox looks away from the relay message on his own screen and pulls me tighter against him, massive palm covering my phone, blocking my ability to see. “Don’t look, Fury,” he murmurs.

“It’s too late,” I whisper. “I already know he’s coming.”

Knox pulls the phone from my hand and tucks it into his pocket. I press into his chest. His heat hits me, but it doesn’t help remove the bone-deep chill.

“He—he saw everything,” I whisper. My voice cracks. “He’s been watching us for⁠—”