Page 152 of Devious Obsession
Jesus.
“This guy is bad news, right?” Jacob eyes us. “So he’s probably expecting police trouble, if anything at all. Which means we need to thinknotlike the police, and more like…”
“Thieves,” Knox supplies.
Jacob grins. “Yeah.”
He hands me a crowbar from his bag. Fuck knows where he got it, but he seems to have more than one. Knox gets one. He gives Miles a metal pipe. I grip the cold weapon, adjusting to its weight. It’s only a little thinner than a hockey stick.
Greyson parks half a block down from Aspen’s apartment. He holds his hand out for the keys, motioning for us to stay put.
Yeah fucking right.
I ignore him and step out onto the sidewalk, my grip on Thalia’s keys like iron. I tuck the crowbar into the back of my pants. I unlock the door and step into the large entryway. There’s a staircase off to the side, a row of mailboxes, and then their apartment door.
If I had my stuff, I wouldn’t have needed Thalia’s keys. But my set is on my dresser at home, left there like an idiot because I didn’t drive to the stadium.
Jacob, Knox, and Miles are right behind us, walking through the silent lobby. We reach her door, and I stick the key in. Turn it.
There’s no audible click of the lock or the weight of the deadbolt sliding open.
It was already unlocked.
A sinking feeling takes over me, and I slowly open the apartment door. It’s completely dark. As one, we move into the unit. Jacob passes me a flashlight, and I click it on. The brilliant light sweeps across the living room and kitchen. I spot her purse on the kitchen island, balanced on the edge.
Greyson and Jacob go down the hall and split off, checking the two rooms. Miles peers into the bathroom, while Knox sticks by me.
I recheck the app. She should be here.
“O’Brien,” Jacob calls from the entrance of Aspen’s room.
I hurry to join him, and my stomach twists at the sight. Her room has been trashed—her bedspread and pillow are missing, half the clothes torn out of her closet. The bar that we put in her window, to prevent it from being opened from the outside, is on the floor.
“Oh, god.” It slips out before I can stop it.
“Give me your phone,” Jacob demands.
I hand it over without hesitation, staring around at the wreckage.
He fiddles with the app, then nudges me. “The tracking implant has a heat sensor. If it goes below ninety degrees, it sends you an alert. And since it’s still active, it’s still working.”
He hands my phone back.
I stare at it. She’s moved a bit, but the pulsing dot is stillhere.
My head tips back.
Well,herecould be… up, too.
“She’s on another floor.” Holy shit. He’s been here the whole time. “Guys.” I burst back out into the main room with Jacob hot on my heels, and we rejoin the other guys. “Sheishere. Upstairs. On another level.”
We head back into the hallway and go for the stairs. Miles mumbles something about calling the police, and his brother agrees with him. I think I might, too. Especially since we’re walking essentially unarmed into an unknown situation.
Suddenly, a sound rips through the stairwell. Thecrackis louder than anything I’ve heard, worse than the sound of a puck hitting the glass during a game. We automatically look at Jacob. His dad is a police chief, after all. He’d know the difference between a firework and…
He nods once, his expression dark.
It was a gunshot.
