Hunted

Marcus

Chapter 24

The meter's running high, rain hammering the windshield like it's got a grudge. The wipers slice through the downpour, keeping rhythm with the storm, drowning out any other noise as I tear down the empty road. I don't know where the hell I'm going—don't care. All I know is if I don't keep driving, I'll end up lighting something on fire.

My phone's been ringing off the hook. Jeremy—he  won't quit. But I don't have it in me to talk. Not now.

Lights flash past as I push harder on the gas, leaving everything in the rearview. I bailed the second Naomi started unloading her shit. If I'd stayed one more minute, I swear, I'd have lost it.

My phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up with Anderson's name. I let it ring out for a second, teeth clenched, before grabbing it. I keep my eyes locked on the road. "Keep blackmailing me, and I'll make sure Jayden ends up behind bars, too."

Silence on his end. He knows exactly what I'm holding. That video of Naomi? It wasn't just to scare her—it was to pin the whole damn thing on my father. Jayden and Vaughn crossed a line, tried to bury her. Vaughn held back, but Jayden? He went all in, and now, with that footage, I've got enough ammo to ruin Anderson. Both his sons branded as monsters? Rapists? That's a reputation hit he'll never walk away from.

I never wanted his company. Couldn't care less about it. All I want is the money rolling in while he plays puppet. If he thinks I'm about to roll over and help with his partnership scheme, he's in for a rude awakening.

His voice crackles over the line, tight and controlled. "I want the girl and the assets, Marcus."

I smirk, gripping the wheel tighter. "You'll get your assets. But the girl? She stays with me."

A bitter laugh echoes through the phone. "You really are pathetic, aren't you? Crawling back to the same bitch who put you behind bars."

My jaw locks. "That 'bitch' is mine to deal with."

"Fine," my father mutters, his voice a slow, twisted rasp, as if he savors each word dripping from his mouth. "If you want her that badly, go ahead. Use her. Twist her. I'll have it my way with her mother,"

Well, well, point for finding her Mom.

I don't bother responding. I cut the call, the silence buzzing in my ears. Sure, maybe Naomi didn't have much of a choice, maybe she's just a pawn in her mother's twisted schemes—but that doesn't mean she's walking away from this unscathed. If I had to bleed for the sins of my old man, she's going to bleed for every mistake her mother made.

I pull up in front of Teon Hall, headlights cutting through the darkness. The building looms, shadows swallowing its edges. This is where the three of us always meet—neutral territory, if you could call it that.

Inside, Vaughn's already there, silently shooting hoops, each shot landing cleanly. He's dressed head-to-toe in black: black hoodie pulled low over his face, sleeves pushed up to show tattooed forearms, black joggers hanging loose over scuffed combat boots. He barely glances my way, focused, his expression a mask of calm intensity.

Then I hear Jeremy's voice behind me. "Didn't have to be a bitch and ignore my calls," he says. He's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, wearing a faded leather jacket over a plain dark shirt, black jeans ripped at the knees, and beat-up sneakers. The ball keeps on thumping against the floor.

"Too broke to wear a new pair of shoes?" I cock an eyebrow.

Jeremy shoves himself off the wall, swaggering closer, his eyes narrowed. "So," he drawls, voice dripping with that barely contained edge, "have you figured out what you're gonna do with Naomi yet?"

I just stare at him, letting the silence hang thick and heavy between us. My lips pull into a slow, deliberate smile.

I pull out my phone and text her.

ME: That place has serial killers lurking there

ME: I'm sending you my address. Be there.

Naomi has nowhere to go, so she has to run to me.

The three dots appear almost instantly, and then disappears.

"How do you wreck someone's life so bad they can't even crawl out of the hole you've buried them in?"
Vaughn's voice cuts through. His gaze is cold, unblinking, piercing right through me as he shoves his hands deeper into his pockets.

Jeremy shoots an eyebrow up. "What's with the Shakespeare monologue, bro? Going back to your sad-boy phase or something?" He snickers, "Didn't know we were revisiting the emo phase."

Vaughn doesn't even look at him. He's staring at the ground, jaw clenched tight, the muscle in his cheek ticking. Then, almost violently, he yanks his hood down and digs his fingers into the back of his hair, pulling like he wants to tear something out. "She's not coming back," he mutters, more to himself than us, the words dripping with something dark and twisted. "She's not... she's not fucking coming back."

Jeremy's face twists inti confusion. He takes a step toward Vaughn, clapping him on the shoulder. "Hey, hey—chill, man. No one's gonna be interested if you keep going for the shaved look."

"Who's she?" I cut in, my voice flat. Jeremy and I never asked him about who the girl is that he's so desperate about, because he would not open his mouth when it comes to her.

Vaughn looks at me, and then drops his hand, shaking his head.

Jeremy takes a step closer. "Come on, man. Going on a 'psycho no bald routine' for some chick? Bitches be spreading their legs for you." He's trying to jab at Vaughn's nerves. "You're acting as if you can't piss on her like all the other—"

Vaughn's face snaps towards him, eyes narrowed into slits, jaw clenched so tight it's a wonder he doesn't shatter his teeth. In a flash, he's got Jeremy by the throat, pushing him back with brutal force. "Talk about her like that, and I'll fucking cut your dick off," he spits, voice low and lethal. "Come on, say it. I fucking dare you."

Jeremy's eyes widen and his hands shoot up, clawing at Vaughn's fingers, his smugness evaporating as he struggles. "Vaughn, Vaughn, I was just joking, Vaughn."

I step in, shoving them apart with enough force to make them stagger back, glaring between them. I fix Vaughn with a stare. I walk up to him and grab him by the back of his neck, pressing my forehead against his, "Breathe, asshole."

"I'm not fucking letting her go," Vaughn grits out. "I'm not going to let her leave me,"

I lock eyes with him, staring into those dark, bottomless pits he calls eyes. Each breath he takes makes them seem even blacker, like he's sinking deeper into some twisted place in his head. I don't have a damn clue who this girl is he's losing his mind over, but if he's wound up like this? Yeah, she's in a hell of a lot of trouble.

"That's some good gay shit. Totally worth PornHub, but fucking help me up would you, fuckers?"

Vaughn jerks back, his glare cutting right through. "Stay the hell away from me," he snaps, jabbing a finger at Jeremy before he storms out, yanking his hoodie over his head as he goes.

Jeremy sits up, eyes trailing after him, muttering under his breath. "He's spiraling," he says, his tone is flat.

My phone buzzes, and I flick it open.

NAOMI: I'm here.

A smirk pulls at my lips. Good girl.