He held up his phone to show he had transferred the video image to his mobile device.
“The Sadist just got there.”
“Shit.” No way could we make it to the house to catch the bastard. I went back in the room. “I need you to call your ex.”
Heaven did not look happy about that. “Why?”
I passed her phone back to her. “Call him. Tell him if he’s smart, he’ll get out of there. Fast.”
She was dialing, probably spurred on by my urgency.
“I called the police,” Isaac said. “Anonymous. Told them I saw someone suspicious lurking around the house.”
“Hey, Danny. No. Shut up. Listen to me. Get out of my house. Go. Now. Don’t ask questions, just—”
Her eyes shot up to me, the phone still to her ear. The color drained from her face.
“He’s there,” she whispered.
I reached for the phone, but by the time I got it, the call had disconnected.
“What’s he going to do?” Heaven asked, her voice trembling as she got to her knees.
Everly came into the room, her face soft from sleep. “What’s wrong?”
Isaac pulled her to him, kissed the top of her head. “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”
Clearly, she wasn’t buying it, especially after she set her sights on the pale and trembling Heaven.
She slipped past me, crawled up into the bed with Heaven, knelt beside her. “What’s wrong?”
“Danny … he broke in. Now that … that asshole’s there.”
Everly’s gaze flew up, locking on me, then Isaac.
“The police are on the way,” Isaac informed her.
“Do you think …” Heaven gripped the comforter. “Will he hurt him?”
Probably. However, I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. I hated the pain and fear etched on her face, didn’t want to add to it.
“The Sadist’s leaving,” Isaac muttered, his eyes glued to his phone. “Alone.”
“Foc.” I grabbed my brother’s arm, steered him out of the room. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Everly
“I don’t know what just happened,” Heaven whispered, her voice frantic even as I tried to calm her down.
When Ian and Isaac split, tearing out of there like their asses were on fire, I’d convinced Heaven to join me in the kitchen for a drink.
It was my thing. RumChata and Fireball had a way of soothing the most frantic of friends.
“Aren’t you supposed to be force-feeding me warm milk?” she asked, though I could tell her mind was elsewhere.
I merely smiled. Sweetly. “Same difference. Only this really makes you feel better.”
As we were sitting at the island, Dante walked in. He didn’t appear as though he’d been asleep. Then again, he never did. The man would disappear into his room for what felt like days, but I never actually saw him sleep. Not unless he was curled up on the sofa with me. When he did that, he was usually out like a light though he rarely admitted it.
“Why’re you up?” He glanced between us, then went to the cupboard and pulled out another glass. He passed it over to me, and I did the honors of making his nightcap, too. The man was vegan, so he passed on the RumChata and stuck with the Fireball.
“Danny’s at the house,” Heaven told him. “That Sadist guy … he must’ve seen someone go in. Probably thought it was you. Broke in.”
I expected to see concern on his face, but there was … nothing. Absolutely nothing. As though he couldn’t care less that the man who was hunting him had broken in.
“Ian put up cameras,” Dante noted, sipping his drink and grimacing. He walked to the freezer, grabbed a few ice cubes, and dropped them in his glass. He pointed toward me with his glass. “I still don’t understand how you can drink that.”
“It does the trick.”
He nodded, grimaced as he took another sip.
“He only put cameras in the main areas, the hallway, and your room. Danny went to my room,” Heaven rambled.
“So did Roger?” Dante inquired.
Okay, there it was. That glimmer of fear I was familiar with. It flashed quickly in his eyes and I had the sudden urge to throw my arms around him. I didn’t know what that asshole had done to Dante, but it had been bad.
“Yeah. Then Roger left. Danny hasn’t come out.”
“Are the police there?”
I nodded. “They called them, anyway.”
I felt so useless. And though I wasn’t Danny’s biggest fan, thought he was a world-class dickhead, I didn’t want some crazy bastard to hurt him. The concern on Heaven’s face said she felt the same.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Dante said, clearly trying to dismiss the situation, but not quite accomplishing that goal when his eyes wouldn’t make contact with ours. “Probably realized Danny wasn’t me, left.”
I reached over, touched Dante’s arm. “He knew I wasn’t you.”
Dante pulled away, his face crumbling as though the reminder ripped him to shreds.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
I shot to my feet, threw my arms around him. As I’d hoped he would, he set his glass down, enveloped me in his arms. I wasn’t sure who got more comfort between us, but physical contact never failed to settle us both. I think it was how we’d gotten so close over the years, gravitating toward one another when there was no one else.
