As soon as the car was speeding down the road, he pulled out his phone and put it on speaker. “Fynn,” he said the moment the call connected.
“I got him.” Fynn’s voice came through loud and clear inside the Hummer.
“Where?” Brock asked shortly.
“You’re not going to believe this shit. The Academy. He just pulled in,” Fynn informed.
Brock’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel. “And Kenna?”
“He has her.”
He slammed his palm on the wheel, and I flinched. “Don’t do anything until I get there. Is that clear?” Brock ordered.
Fynn wasn’t quick to respond. A beat of silence passed before he said, “I don’t like this.”
My fingers clutched onto the edge of the seat as Brock took the next turn too fast. “We’ll be there in less than five. Keep eyes on him.”
“Is Micah with you?” Fynn asked.
Brock glanced at me. “No. It’s Josie.”
Fynn cursed. “What the fuck.”
“Hey,” I protested. “I’m in the car, you know.”
“You shouldn’t be involved in this,” Fynn said disapprovingly. “You’re giving him exactly what he wants.”
“Does anybody really know what the sicko is after?” I posed. He had the evidence the Elite gathered about him, and yet it wasn’t enough.
“Trust me, I don’t like it either. But she gave me no choice,” Brock said, both of them ignoring me and further pissing me off.
True to his word, we steamrolled into the Academy parking lot in less than five minutes. Parking beside Brock’s SUV, Fynn exited the Land Rover. “He took Kenna inside the south entrance,” he said the second Brock opened the door.
Brock’s gaze cut through the darkness at the truck parked on the grass. “How the fuck did he get inside?”
“Kenna has a set of keys,” I cut in, drawing their attention.
“Kenna and her damn secrets.” Brock edged around the Hummer to the passenger side, opening the glove box and taking something out. I caught the glint of steel as he tucked the item under his shirt and into the band of his jeans.
My gaze widened. Shit suddenly took a seriously ominous note. “Is that a gun?”
Brock closed the car door with a soft click, careful to keep our presence from Carter. “Yeah,” he stated flatly. “Do you have yours?” he asked Fynn.
Fynn gave a curt nod. “Locked and loaded.”
I stood in between the two of them, my head flipping back and forth. “Whoa. We are not killing anyone. Got that?” I said sternly.
“That will be up to Carter,” Brock replied.
My gut wouldn’t calm down. Nerves and fear ran rampant inside me. “Do you think he is hurting her?” My eyes shifted to the gothic school looming in front of us.
“Only one way to find out. Let's go. And no matter what happens, Firefly, you need to stay behind us. Promise me.”
I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “Promise.” What he didn’t see were the fingers crossed behind my back.
Brock smashed his lips against mine for a brief kiss that translated to,don’t you fucking get hurt. I got the message. And the same went for him.
Together as a team, we prowled toward the south door of the school. I stayed close to Brock, Fynn taking the lead. Why this side of school? What was here? The gym? Was there some symbolism for him bringing her here?