As the lines between good and evil were blurred and new, unlikely alliances were formed, there were very few things keeping Carson Bradley sane. But sometimes, even sanity was not enough to win a war when there was already so much blood raining down...
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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT NOT ALL HEROES WEAR CAPES
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"I got to meet with the medical examiner and try to figure out what happened to Jackson," Mr. Stilinski told us, reading off a small notebook.
We were all in the locker room, most of the team having put on their clothes and left already. Everyone was extremely shaken up about what had happened to Jackson. He had been taken away in an ambulance and everyone knew that wasn't a good thing. Jackson was dead, and there was nothing we could do.
The few that remained in the locker room were the Sheriff, Scott, Isaac and I. We were all huddled in a small circle, listening to what the Sheriff was saying. Scott had his arm around my shoulders and I could still feel tears flowing even though my face was still slightly numb from the cold.
Stiles was still missing. No one could find him, which only made my fear of Gerard kidnapping him that much more of a reality. We had to find him. I had to get him back. The last things that I said to him, I had to apologize for. I had to make sure that he knew that I still loved him. Stiles needed to be found.
"Anything else?" I sniffed. Sheriff Stilinski looked at me, face falling just a little more. He knew what I was asking.
"I have an APB out on Stiles," he assured me. "His jeep is still in the parking lot which means...God. Hell, I don't know what that means...Look, if he answers his phone, if he answers his email, if any of you see him—"
"We'll call you," Isaac finished with a weak smile.
I glanced over at Isaac. For once he wasn't being creepy or rude. He was actually being a good person. I smiled lightly at him through my tears and he looked confused but nodded at me nonetheless.
Scott coughed. "Look, he's probably just freaked out from all the attention or something. We'll find him."
"Yeah," Mr. Stilinski replied with a sigh. He didn't sound too convinced though. "I'll call you."
He walked off, meeting up with the medical examiner at the door. It sucked for him, because he couldn't even focus on his son right now. He had to focus on the fact that Jackson had died first. And they definitely weren't going to get solid answers on that one.
The three of us looked at each other with a sigh and I ran a hand through my hair.
"We need to work—"
"McCall," Finstock interrupted, joining our little triangle of sadness. "We need you on the team. You know I can't put you on the field next season if you don't get your grades up."
"Yeah, I know Coach," Scott replied, seeming confused about this whole conversation. I looked over at Isaac, who was wearing the same expression.
