Bloodshed (Order of the Unseen, #1)(46)

She arches a brow, accusingly. “Did you?”

“You literally saw me there,” I press. “But you were pretty drunk, so of course you don’t remember.”

“Pretty sure I blacked out,” she mumbles, unbothered.

“Did you ever end up finding Stacey?”

“No idea. But, anyway…” She sits upright, devoting her attention back to me. “Just be careful. Especially with Damien. I’ve heard he’s batshit crazy. Unstable. A psychopath. Literally—”

“You’re grasping at straws, Jenna.”

“A few years ago, he beat some guy so badly he nearly killed him,” she urges. “Well, so I’ve heard…”

Again, I roll my eyes. “You really need to stop listening to people. At the very least, you should be asking for proof,” I mutter.

“He’s fucking hot as hell. Tatted, and bulging with muscle. I know. It must be so brutally tempting.”

“Do I sense jealousy?”

“Absolutely,” she snarls, releasing an overly dramatic sigh. “Ran into the three of them at a party once. I barely had clothes on, and Damien didn’t even give me the time of day. Wouldn’t even look at me. And I even had my tits out.”

“Maybe you’re not his type.”

“Whatever,” she shoots back grimly. “Never thought you’d be into bad boys.”

“Oh, shut up,” I scoff, glancing down at the black screen of my phone.

“You’re waiting for him to text you, aren’t you?” she asks. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up. He probably just wants to get you in bed, and then he’ll toss you aside like you’re nothing. That’s the type of guy he probably is.”

“You don’t know anything,” I firmly state. “He already had me last night. And today. Well, kind of.”

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head. “You fucked Damien Sylvester?” she asks, mouth agape. “You’re shitting me, Quinn! Tell me! I need details!”

“Keep your voice down! You just said that they’re dangerous and to be careful, yet you’re praising me for sleeping with them?”

She gasps. “Them? As in, you’ve slept with all three of them? Holy fucking shit!”

I blink at her, trying my best to keep a straight face.

“You never did make it home last night,” she points out, putting the pieces together. “Wait a fucking minute. You went home with them after the party, didn’t you? You left the party with the hot, dangerous trio?”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t tell anyone?” she repeats, nearly leaping to her feet. “The guy literally just drove you here on his bike and even walked you to the door. People are going to find out. You know that word spreads quickly around campus. Like that huge fire at the haunted house last night.”

Suddenly, my stomach drops.

“They’ve already raised the number twice today. Eight people died,” she explains, before noticing the horrified expression on my face. “Woah. Are you okay? You’re really pale.”

“Died?” I ask, my stomach in knots. “People died?”

“Yes. It’s been all over the news. Haven’t you heard?”

Haven’t I heard?

…I was there.

“The house nearly burnt to the ground,” Jenna describes. “They found eight charred bodies. Couldn’t even identify them at the scene. At first, they were thinking some kind of mechanical issue sparked the fire. Some exposed wires or something,” she rambles on and on as a wave of nausea consumes me. My saliva thickens in my mouth, and my late-afternoon lunch threatens to come back up. “But now they’re talking about possible arson. There was a lot of gasoline involved. Someone definitely had to have started it. Crazy shit.”

A flashback of Ghost and I in the shower immediately comes to mind.

Taking me into his arms, he brings me into the shower, moving us under the stream of uncomfortably hot water. When suddenly, my heart sinks. A dark, red substance drips from his disheveled hair, staining the water red at our feet, before it washes down the drain.

Blood. So much blood.

How did I not notice sooner? How was I so oblivious?

Placing a finger beneath my chin, he lifts my gaze from the blood-stained water, and my eyes meet his.

“You did this, for me,” I weakly let out. “What did you do to them, Ghost?”

“Na?ve, little Quinn. I’d sell my soul for you.” Gripping my hips, he brings me close, as his large, thick erection twitches against my stomach. “If I had one.”

“Shit,” I curse, running my trembling hands through my hair.

“What’s wrong, Quinn?” Jenna asks, concerned.

There was blood. Lots of blood. Yet, I had simply assumed he had just given my bullies a well-deserved beating. Kicked their asses. Scared them.

But this?

This is far more sinister.

People are dead.

The screen of my phone lights up unexpectedly, sending a chill down my spine.

There’s a text from an unknown number.

One single Ghost emoji.

…Damien.





CHAPTER NINETEEN