The Sinners of Saint Amos - Logan Fox Page 0,163

impotently at me once, twice, fucking five times before it unlocks and lets me dial.

I go to my knees, trying to be gentle when I thumb back Apollo’s eyelid. Left, then right. No fucking clue if anyone’s still left behind those pupils though. I pat his cheek. He comes around with a groan. His head tips forward, but I push it back with fingers on his jaw, but gentle. Could be gay for him that’s how tender I’m being.

“Gabriel?” I ask. Meanwhile, my phone rings in my ear then goes to voice mail. I redial. Why the fuck isn’t Zach answering? “He did this?”

I mean, who else, right?

But how? Why? That’s what I need to know.

Apollo’s eyes roll around in their sockets as he tries to focus on me. He eventually gets out a pained, “Trinity.”

I frown, huff out a laugh. “Yeah, no. Try again. Gabriel, right?”

“He’s got Trinity.”

My blood turns into a raspberry slushie.

All that shit I was spouting about denial? Well, I guess I’m a pussy after all. I couldn’t have given less fucks when I found out Trinity had left. There was even a whole good-riddance vibe in my head. Because obviously she couldn’t handle the four of us. We were too much for that pretty little slut. Who wasn’t a slut after all, and I guess that goes a far way in explaining why she bolted in the first place.

But now?

Christ fucking Jesus.

I was bullshitting myself at a master level. Because if I didn’t give a fuck, there’d be no way I’d be outright getting heart palpitations at the thought that something bad might happen to our little girl. And that makes no sense, because we were just having a good time. I don’t do feelings. I don’t—dear God—do relationships. There’s no way you can date someone like me.

So why do I feel like someone’s gone and dug up my future grave, poured lighter fuel over my corpse, and set it alight?

The phone goes to voice mail. I call Reuben without missing a beat.

Apollo’s eyes flicker, about to close.

“Nuh-uh,” I tell him, gripping his jaw harder. Next I’ll be putting my nails in him. “Tell me what happened.”

He winces, but whether that’s from whatever blunt trauma he experienced or my grip is difficult to say. I won’t call him an outright pussy, but he’s never been able to handle pain, or blood, or any of that shit. Despite what he claims when we get pissed and rage about the deliciously dark shit we’ll do to our Ghosts, I know he’ll be the one standing outside, keeping watch. Or digging the grave. Or something that doesn’t include binding, torturing, and killing.

It’s not that he can’t hurt a fly. He swats them all right. But he only does it hard enough to daze them, and then tosses them out the window.

“Apollo!” When he doesn’t respond, I try, “Trevor!”

His eyes go wide. He winces again. Mumbles, “He took her.”

“Yeah, you said that already, Christ. Where did he take her? Did he say anything? Does he know?” Too many questions, but I can barely stop myself from yelling at this point.

“He…I dunno. Didn’t say where.” Then he closes his eyes, and I’m convinced he’s about to start crying.

“Cass?” Reuben’s voice legit makes me flinch.

I turn away from Apollo, letting go of his head and glancing around the tiny room as I talk to Rube. “Yeah, buddy? We got a serious fucking problem on our hands.”

Chapter Six

Zach

I’m headed to Gabriel’s room when I get the call. I shouldn’t even have checked who it was—my mission is set in stone. I must find Gabriel before he leaves Saint Amos.

We know he’s staying behind to oversee the repairs to Saint Amos. Him and him alone. Which is perfect, because by the time they figure out Gabriel’s missing, we’ll be lost in the woods. Even if they send out search parties, the chances of them finding that decrepit hunting lodge is slim to none.

Reuben is on his way to the admin offices. We want to make sure Gabriel doesn’t have a chance to escape if he happens to catch wind of his own death. Fuck, for all we know, he has a direct line to Satan and Old Scratch sends him prophetic messages every now and then.

Cass and Apollo are probably disobeying me and having a joint together somewhere. They take things like summer break too fucking seriously. It pisses me off, but I can’t really blame them for acting like the kids they