Wings of the Walker - CoraLee June Page 0,113

the first time I felt comfortable enough in my friendship with him to invade his personal space. His brown bedding smelled like evergreen and spice, and I caught myself breathing in the scent multiple times throughout the night.

I enjoyed a lazy morning. The Bakery was closed during the weekend, so I spent my time keeping busy and not worrying about Cyler and Patrick by making donuts and carrot cake; two items I hoped to add to the Bakery’s menu very soon.

After that, I went to my old room to paint. It was still recovering from Jules’ tantrum. Even though most of my supplies were ruined by her, I still managed to find a canvas and some paint that wasn’t completely destroyed. After clearing a spot and texting Cyler a reminder that we really needed to get the room cleaned so I could stop bed hopping, I started to paint the grove from last night .

The dark sky etched in my mind’s eye and the importance of that special place burned into my memory. I wanted to bring a bit of the grove back to the Black Manor. I let the calm and familiarity of the place guide my brushstrokes. I painted the grass floor and the moonlight illuminating the space.

While painting, I heard a commotion erupt in the kitchen. I abandoned my project to investigate, praying that Jules wasn’t back and causing havoc. In the kitchen, I saw Jacob pacing the floor, while Tallis sat at the head of our table with a pensive expression. Maverick had his arms crossed over his chest and was shaking his head.

“How the fuck did this even happen?!” Hux growled out.

“I’m not sure, their tablets are offline, and I lost their GPS signal sometime late last night. I assumed they had poor signal, but now, I think something’s happened,” Maverick said with a choke.

“Wh-what’s going on?” I stuttered.

“Cyler and Patrick are . . . missing,” Kemper said in a soft tone while thrusting his fists into his slacks and rocking on his toes. He looked nervous and scared. I reflexively grabbed my chest as pain rocked through me. I collapsed under the worry and found the nearest seat to break down in. Patrick and Cyler were in danger.

“They went missing early this morning. I was periodically checking their signal, and when I noticed that they went completely off the grid, I ran a few more scans, but . . . they’re gone,” Maverick said with slumped shoulders. I looked around the room in disbelief.

“How could they just disappear? This isn’t possible,” I asked, praying that this was all just one big joke.

“People don’t disappear, Agrio. ” Tallis said in a morbid tone while picking at a scab on his stark white knuckle.

I realized with certainty that he was right. Most likely, Cyler and Patrick were abducted. I couldn’t help but assume the worst. They were either hurt, or dead.

“We have to do something,” I said while standing up on shaky legs. Maverick looked at me with profound sadness, and my heart broke .

“I’ll go get Mia,” Jacob said while lacing his shoes. “We need to come up with a plan.”

“Maverick, you work on finding out where they are. Check every damn radio wave out there if you have to. Tallis, go with Jacob. Kemper, stay here. We need to prepare to leave by nightfall.”

“Where are we going?” I asked with newfound determination.

“You aren’t going anywhere. We are paying Lackley a little visit,” Huxley said, and everyone stared at him for a moment, seemingly in shock by his newfound authority. “Come on . Let’s move ,” he ordered. Everyone scattered into different directions, and before I could orient myself, the kitchen was empty.

“Come on,” Huxley ordered, while grabbing my hand and pulling me upstairs to his room.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

Huxley huffed while kicking open his door and moving me towards the wingback chair in the corner of his room. He found a black leather bag then started calmly loading it with various supplies.

Once he was satisfied that he had everything he needed, he sat on his bed. The plush comforter was a stark difference to his rigid posture and grim demeanor. I stood and began pacing the floor. With each step and tick of the clock I wondered if Cyler and Patrick were still alive. If they were being tortured. If Josiah was behind this.

“Will you stop doing that? I’m trying to think,” Huxley growled while massaging his temples.

I ignored him.

“Shouldn’t Jacob be