My breath releases in a rush and Chasm inhales sharply, giving a little shudder in response.
“Why the fuck do you smell like strawberries and sugar all the time? Even your breath smells sweet.”
“Chasm,” I warn, because my hands are this close to reaching out and touching his pretty face. “Please let go of me.”
He gives me a sharp look, his amber eyes burning with intent.
“Don’t do anything reckless without me, okay? If he contacts you, you call me right away. I’ll be camping my phone, just in case.” Chas releases me suddenly, his eyes sliding over to Kimber. I glance her way and find those dark eyes of hers boring into the pair of us.
It’s no secret that she has a crush on Chasm; she won’t like it if she realizes that I do, too.
“I’ll call you,” I promise, just as Maxx’s orange Jeep rolls up to the curb. I take off before I get in anymore trouble with Chasm and hop in, dropping my book bag to the floor with a heavy sigh.
“Chas has Kimber covered, so we don’t need to drop her off.”
“Everything okay?” X asks as we roll away from the school and head down the white gravel road toward the gate. “Anything new to report?”
I give him a look.
“If there was any news on Parrish, you’d probably know before I did.” I shrug my shoulders and keep my gaze focused out the windshield. Looking at Maxx is too hard. There’s just something about him that makes me want to tell the truth. I can’t explain it. He inspires honesty in me, and honesty is something that could get Parrish killed.
As we drive, I work through scenarios in my head. Mr. Volli’s home address is a good start; we might be able to find some clues there. It’s too obvious of a spot for Parrish to actually be held captive, but that doesn’t mean we can’t learn anything from going there.
A DNA test might be nice, just to see if Mr. Volli is my father. If he might actually be Parrish’s sole kidnapper, and he’s just screwing with us. But where am I going to get money for a DNA test? From Tess? Would I have to send it into a private lab, or could I just order a few kits from some mainstream site and see if Mr. Volli and I end up as family matches?
Then again, how would I get him to spit in the little plastic tube? Not a great solution.
Besides, this guy, Parrish’s kidnapper, whoever he might be, is too careful. He’s too smart. He’s so confident that he won’t get caught that he plays games. Someone like that wouldn’t work at the school of the student he’d just kidnapped.
It’s too obvious.
I bite my thumbnail and X flicks his gaze my direction.
“Maxine’s really excited to see you,” he explains, clearly doing his best to make harmless small talk. I glance over at him, still nibbling on my nail. “She’s been worried.”
“I’m not the one she should be worried about,” I reply absently, trying and failing to ignore the bundle of nerves I’ve become. Rather than focus on Maxx any further, I get out my phone and start going through the comments on my video.
There are thousands. Not only that, but I’ve gotten plenty of video replies as well. More than I could ever watch or respond to in a million years. How am I supposed to filter through all of this stuff?
I scroll the comments, looking for anything that stands out.
Most of it’s crap—I mean, it’s the internet, of course it is—but there’s something that catches my attention right away.
The Vanguards’ security system is provided by Fort Humboldt Security, Inc. Anybody else think that’s sus as hell that the footage is missing, and the alarm never went off?
Fort Humboldt Security?
A quick search reveals that Fort Humboldt Security is a multi-billion-dollar, privately-owned security firm. Off I go again, sleuthing through the copious depths of the internet for more information. Nothing catches my attention until I see that one, the company is based in Seattle. And two … the current CEO is Seamus McKenna.
The blood drains from my face as I click the link and follow it to a photo of Chasm’s father.
How … why didn’t Chasm tell me about this?! I mean, there’s a chance he wasn’t aware that his father’s company provided the security for the Vanguards’ house. But come on! This is a huge fucking deal.
“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” X comments, one hand on the top of the steering wheel, the other tap-tap-tapping a nervous rhythm on his door. He glances at me and raises a dark brow in question. The interior of the vehicle is permeated with his scent, that vibrant, sporty citrus smell that makes me feel fidgety.
