“Goddammit! Someone get Bain!”
I shoved the bathroom door open, ready to walk over to the mirror to slam my fist in it. I didn’t even want to see the horror on my face that I knew was there. Reality was sinking in, and everything that I had meticulously planned had just vanished into thin air, like Gemma.
If he had her...
I stopped immediately the second my foot stepped inside the bathroom. My eyes darted to the sink first, and my stomach shrunk. Bright-red blood lined the side of it, and there were drips on the white tiled floor.
“Isaiah.” A small voice caught my attention, and my head snapped to the left as my uncle rushed in behind me. He immediately grabbed onto Sloane who was lying in the bathtub half hidden behind the shower curtain.
“Shit!” I yelled, diving down to my knees to look into her eyes. She blinked several times, and I had the urge to shake her tiny shoulders to get her to speak, but fuck, she was bleeding. It was selfish, but a part of me hoped that it was her blood on the sink and not Gemma’s. At least Sloane was alive.
Uncle Tate brushed Sloane’s matted hair away from her eyes as he bent down and placed her on the floor in between us. “Sloane. Are you okay? What happened?”
Sloane looked from my uncle and then over to me. Her shaky hands gripped onto my forearms, and she cried, “He took her, Isaiah. He...took her.”
“Richard? Her uncle?” I asked, placing my hand over hers. Fuck, she was shaking just as badly as Gemma was last night in the library. Shiner’s voice carried from the room, and I heard the faint worried tone from Mrs. Fitz, too. None of that mattered, though. It wasn’t Gemma’s voice that I’d heard, and it was the only one I cared about.
She was gone.
Sloane nodded slowly before wincing. “I think so...”
“What did he look like?” A hopeful part of me hoped it wasn’t Richard that took her, but that would only mean it was one other person. My father.
“He was tall…” She winced again. “It was her uncle. I know it. He was saying stuff… I think he’s the one that put the marks on her wrists, Isaiah. It had to be. She was so scared.”
My chest caved, and my entire being shook. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the walls of St. Mary’s trembled along with it.
“What marks?”
I met my uncle’s eye, and the same determination that I often saw in the mirror was there, and it was prominent.
Sloane pulled us back with her next words. “He asked if I knew she was fucking the Huntsman’s son and if I encouraged it. Gemma said that I didn’t know. She was trying to pull him away from me.” Another tear slid down Sloane’s face, and I sat back on my ass, sick to my stomach. “Then he hit me with a gun, and he must have dragged me in here.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Uncle Tate climbed to his feet and began pacing the small bathroom. He opened up the door, and Shiner, Cade, and Mrs. Fitz were all standing there. I could feel their eyes on us, but all I could do was stare at the sink with blood on it. Everything felt out of control.
Everything.
I couldn’t get a grasp on it.
“Isaiah,” Sloane started, but both of our heads turned at the sound of my uncle’s phone ringing. I briefly glanced at Mrs. Fitz. Her plump, rosy cheeks were ghastly white, and I probably looked the same. I slowly stood up and bent over to pick Sloane up. I bypassed everyone, unable to meet anyone’s gaze, and sat her down onto her bed.
“Headmaster Ellison, you have to see these. Something is very, very wrong.”
As soon as I left Sloane on her bed, Cade walked over and stood beside her. Our gazes collided, and we both knew that shit was about to turn bad real fucking fast.
“Just a minute, Mrs. Fitz. It’s Beth.”
“Speaker,” I demanded. Beth was my uncle’s assistant who knew a lot about the students at this school. She was quiet and often in the shadows, but it was always the quiet ones who knew the most.
“Beth?” my uncle rushed out. I walked closer as he pulled the phone from his ear and put it on speaker. Shiner shut the door because the girls’ hall was becoming busier as they came back from their meeting. I was certain it was all a big ploy to begin with.
Staring a hole into my uncle’s phone, my pulse had begun racing again, and my fingers twitched. Where the hell was she? Back in the basement? Fuck, this was all my fault. Bain. It had to have been Bain. He must have told Richard. The fucking photos. But why?
My uncle’s voice came crashing back in. “You didn’t see anyone walk in? No other adults other than faculty? Did you see Gemma leave?”
I could tell Beth was leery. “No...nothing suspicious has caught my eye. I didn’t even hear the door open. I was calling to let you know the mail came. The results are back.”
My uncle's hand tensed on the phone, and my eyes climbed up to his. He was hesitant but must have thought better of putting the phone back to his ear, because he said, “Read them. Right now.”
Beth paused. “Are you sure…? I was just going to leave it on your desk. I haven’t opened it.”
“Opened what?” I asked, noting the way his chest rose a little faster. “Uncle Tate, does this have something to do with Gemma?”
“Open them, Beth. Read them.”
The shuffling of a paper came over the speaker, and my uncle spoke with authority as he looked at each of us. “Not a word to anyone.”
Beth’s voice had us all looking down to the phone again, and I tensed, fearing nearly anything that could come out of her mouth. Results?
Her breath was loud on the other end, and I walked a little closer to my uncle. “Oh, wow. It’s…it’s confirmed, Tate. Gemma Richardson is your daughter.”