He looked at me for what felt like an eternity. I was sure he was going to lean in and kiss me. His large hand reached out. I held my breath as it neared my face, but instead of touching me, he tugged on a strand of hair that had loosened from the ponytail I’d tied up during our walk home.
“Good night, Amelia.” He dropped his hand and walked away, leaving my heart in my throat as I watched his broad shoulders retreat to the other end of the hall.
When he got to his door, he unlocked it and glanced over his shoulder. I swear he smiled at me before he went inside and I felt a wave of disappointment at the fact that he hadn’t run back over here. At the fact that he hadn’t kissed me. I shook all of my crazy emotions away and opened the envelope as I walked inside and shut the door. I peeked inside to see a thick, black card inside. Plucking it out, I saw that one side was plain black and said YOU’VE BEEN SUMMONED. The other had a gold octopus with an address, 900 Stewart Avenue. 12am.
I looked at the time. It was well past twelve-am. Something told me this was extremely secretive. Could it be one of the societies? Which one? The one that kidnapped girls and potentially sacrificed them? A shiver rolled through me at the thought. I set the card down on the counter, showered and changed into my pajamas and went back to the guest room to open the other box.
Once I took the tape off, I frowned at the sight of a pink blanket, Gucci slides that were probably my size, definitely not Lincoln’s. I kept taking things out until I reached the bottom, where there were credit cards. No, a license and school ID. I pulled them both out of the box and sat there, stunned, as I held Lana’s identification in my hands. Why the hell did Lincoln have any of this stuff? And how’d it get here?
Chapter Nine
I tossed and turned all night before giving up, pushing my sheets off, and rushing downstairs. If nothing else, I needed to know who brought those boxes. There were cameras everywhere in this building and I knew my father saved footage. Well, at least according to the conversation I overheard him having with Lana’s parents that night. He could’ve been lying. Dad wasn’t beyond that. When I reached the lobby, Gary’s head snapped up from behind the desk.
“You’re up early.”
“Or late.”
“Miss Bastón, you need your rest,” he said, frowning. “Your father—”
“Yes, I know, wouldn’t approve. I need something important. Do you have footage of last week?”
“Um . . . “
“I just want to see something. Please, Gary. It’s important. I only need to see footage of my floor, nothing else.”
“I can do that.” He stood up and disappeared into the office behind him. I walked around the desk and sat down in one of the chairs. He set a USB drive on the table when he came back. “This is last week. I’ve been dividing them by week and saving them individually as per Mr. Bastón’s orders. After the whole thing happened with Ms. Ly, we figured it was best to have it all on file.”
“Lana didn’t live here,” I said, frowning up at him.
“She might as well have, with how often she was here.”
“Doing what?”
“Visiting someone would be my guess. A lot of students live here, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I thought of Logan down the hall from me. I hadn’t even seen him or known he lived here until last night. Maybe I should be paying closer attention to people. I inserted the USB into the drive and set it on speed. If I saw something I needed, I’d pause and rewind. I yawned on day two of footage. Rubbed my eyes on day three. Day four and five were nonconsequential. Then, I saw Logan walking out of the elevator. I stopped it there and played it on regular speed. He was with a girl. I rolled my eyes. What else was new? I hadn’t seen her before. She had short curly hair and fair skin and they looked like they were arguing. I waited on bated breath, fully expecting this to turn into yet another make-out session. Instead, she walked back into the elevator and he stomped toward his apartment. Odd.
I kept fast-forwarding. Shortly after, the door to the emergency exit by my apartment opened and two people wearing black cloaks walked out. I gasped, holding my hand over my rapidly beating heart. They were both carrying one box each. Boxes that clearly said Lincoln on them. Boxes that I was positive they were about to drop off by the door. One of them took a key out and unlocked my door. They both walked back out not even five seconds later, still cloaked, but with no boxes.
“Can I get footage for this same day and time in the lobby?” I asked Gary.
“Sure, let me check.”
He disappeared and reappeared again quickly, with another USB drive. He set that one beside me. I fast forwarded through the entire thing until I got to that date and time and waited. People were in and out, in and out, none wearing cloaks. What the hell? I searched for someone I would recognize, but that didn’t work either. I saw the girl with the short curly hair that had been arguing with Logan upstairs, but she was dressed normally, in jeans and a sweater. No cloak. I sighed, leaning back in the seat and rubbing my face.
“I need a locksmith to come and change the locks to my apartment,” I told Gary.
“Of course. I’m on it,” he said. “Anything else?”
“No.”
“Will you be up there? You need to get some rest, Miss. Bastón. You have bags under your eyes.”
“I know. I know.” I shut my eyes.
I was so incredibly tired. I thought of Logan, who had offered if I needed anything and said I could go to his apartment. Would it be weird if I went there and just slept? Maybe. I was doing it anyway. I stood, thanked Gary, and headed back up. When I got to my floor, I knocked on Logan’s door, softly at first, and then louder. He opened, shirtless, with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He frowned.
“Amelia?” he said around the toothbrush.
It was the first time he’d ever sounded ridiculous. He looked ridiculous, albeit hot as fuck, with his hair sticking up everywhere and those grey sweatpants that clung low on his hips.
“I’m tired. I need a bed. Or a couch. Or the floor. I don’t care,” I said. He jogged over to the kitchen sink and spit, turning on the water. I made a face as I walked in. “That is disgusting.”
“What’s wrong with your bed, or couch, or floor?”
“It’s been compromised. I’m having a locksmith change the locks but I can’t keep my eyes open. I feel like I’m going to—”
“My bed is empty,” he said, walking over to his bedroom.
We had a similar layout, but my view was better, and I had two bedrooms, where he only had one. Same kitchen and living room though. His walls were dark gray, where mine were white. He had posters on the walls of different movies. His bedroom walls were bare, except for a shelf that seemed to go across the entire room and was filled with trophies and medals. He must have brought every single momentum they’d given him since birth. I must have said that aloud, because he chuckled.
“It keeps me working harder.”
“Oh. Wow.” I blinked hard, yawning. “It would make me want to quit.”
He chuckled again. “There’s the bed. Obviously. Don’t worry, I don’t do dirty things on it, so you’re safe.”
“What?” I frowned, then blinked fast. “Oh. Oh. I hadn’t even considered that.”
“It’s a germ-free zone. Well, my germs are on it, but you’ll have to live with that.”
“Sure.” I waved him off as I kicked off my slides and climbed into bed. “Holy crap this is comfortable.”
“Thanks.”
“Really comfortable.” I snuggled into the pillow, pulling the sheets tighter to my chin. “It smells like you.”
“I’m going to the gym,” he said. “I’ll be back in an hour and a half. You’ll be fine?”
“I’ll be sleeping.” I yawned again. “Thanks, Logan.”
“Any time, Amelia.”
With that, I shut my eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter Ten
Logan
>
“I can’t just keep her in the dark about her own brother.” I lift the bar up and set it on the stand.
“So don’t.” Nolan wipes the sweat off his face, standing over me as he spots me. “Just tell her.”
“That’s against the rules, asshole. I’m not forfeiting my money or future for her. I’m just saying, I feel kind of bad.”
“Since when do you feel bad? You treat girls like they’re disposable.”
I sat up quickly, glaring at him. “I don’t treat anyone like they’re disposable.”
“Mandy was crying the other night because you didn’t invite her back to your place.”
“Please.” I rolled my eyes. “Not fucking someone hardly constitutes as treating them like they’re disposable.”
“Do you like her?” He started working on biceps with the free weights. “Mae, I mean.”
“I think she’s interesting.”
“Since when do you think girls you aren’t fucking are interesting?”
“I’ve never thought any of the ones I fucked were interesting, otherwise, I would be doing more than just fucking them.”
“You’re an asshole.” He chuckled.
I shrugged, going back to the bench press.
“So you think she’s interesting,” he said, setting down his weights and coming back over to where I was to spot me again. “You know she has a boyfriend, right?”
“When have I ever let that stop me?”
“You’re crazy, bro.” He shook his head. “He’s a big guy.”
“And I’m not?”
“I don’t know. I see you going slow on these weights today. Two-thirty? You can do better than that.”
“You’re an asshole.” I chuckled, shaking my head as he adjusted the plates. “You need to work on your motivational speeches.”
“We’ll have a meeting about it. Maybe it’s time,” he said once I started lifting again.
“Right.” I set the bar on the stand again. “I’m leaving after this rep.”
“What the hell? You just got here.”
“I have things to do today.”
“Like not train to kick Mae’s boyfriend’s ass?”
I flashed him the finger. The mention of her boyfriend was annoying me. I had seen her with him though, sitting by the pool of her parent’s house. I couldn’t just ignore his existence. Or maybe I could. I guess it all came down to just how interesting I found her and how much I was willing to put up with.
Chapter Eleven
Amelia
I awoke to the sound of my phone vibrating with text messages coming in, and sat up in a strange bed. Then I remembered. I was in Logan’s bed. In Logan’s apartment. I’d been seriously delirious when I decided to walk over here and make myself at home like we were buddies. Maybe I should leave before he got back. Yeah. I should. I stretched as I made my way out of bed and inhaled. The entire room smelled like him—clean soap and pine tree. I shut my eyes. Like Christmas. I picked up my phone and looked at it. Five text messages—one from my mother, one from Hailey, one from Celia, and two from an unknown number.
Mom: Everything is fine. The same. Love you.
Hailey: Hey, come by the coffee shop! Free coffee and gossip!
Celia: I didn’t see you leave last night. You okay?
Unknown number: Don’t you want to know what happened to Lana?
Unknown number: To your brother? She’s out there.
My heart was in my throat as I called the number back. Again, it said the number was disconnected. What the hell? I stood up, slid my feet back into my sandals, and walked out of the room, heading to the front door. I pulled it open just as Logan was pushing it.
“Hey,” he said, then frowned. “What happened?”
“I . . . I need to go. I have to go.” I brushed past him, but he grabbed my arm.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He looked back into his apartment. “Is someone here? Fuck, Mae, you’re shaking.”
“I’ve had a long night. A long day. A long week. A long month,” I said quickly. My phone rang in my hand and I jumped, clutching it, but it was Travis’s face kissing my cheek that popped up as he called. I seriously needed to change that picture. “I ummm, I should go. Thank you.”
“Yeah. You should.” Logan’s scowl deepened.
I picked up the phone as I walked back to my own apartment.
“Hey, just calling to see how you’re doing. I know we said no calls and no texts after the breakup, but I feel like we need to make an exception,” Travis said. “How’s Lincoln?”
“The same.” I sighed as I unlocked and walked into my apartment.
“I’m sorry. What are the doctors saying? Have the seizures stopped?”
“They’re waiting one more week before taking him out of the coma just in case, but they’ve stopped for now.” I bit my lip. I could barely stand talking about it, but I was glad for Travis.
“You sound tired, Mae.”
“I am tired.”
There was a loud knock on my door. I gasped and jumped.
“What was that?”
“Someone’s at my door. Probably the locksmith.”
“Locksmith?” he asked loudly. “Why? Did something happen?”
“No. I just don’t know who had this key before. You know Lincoln gets a little crazy when it comes to girls.”
“Oh.” He chuckled. “Yeah, good point. You don’t want any unwanted stalkers.”
“Exactly.” I walked over and unlocked the door. Gary and the locksmith were on the other side. “I have to go, Trav. Thanks for calling.”
“Of course. I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks.” I hung up.
“This will only take a second,” the locksmith said.
“Go on with your business, Ms. Bastón,” Gary said. “I’ll watch him.”
“Thanks.” I smiled and walked to the guest bedroom, back to the second box with all of Lana’s belongings. There was another student ID—Lincoln’s, and a black card with his full name on it—Lincoln Bastón. On the back, the words, You’ve Been Summoned. My hand shook as I held it. Those were the same words on the card on my kitchen counter. There was also a black flip phone that had been torn in half, a computer, that I took out. It said, “Property of The Gazette” on it. I sat on the floor and opened it up.
“We’re done here, Ms. Bastón,” Gary called out.
I stood up and walked over, taking the new keys and thanking them for their help. Gary assured me that Dad had already paid the man as they headed toward the elevator. When I closed my door and locked it, I felt safer than I did last night. Heading back to the computer, I looked at the screen. It needed a passcode. I wondered if she set it or if the newspaper did. I thought about what Gary said, about Lana frequenting the building. Between that and the black card with Lincoln’s name on it, I was convinced this had to do with the secret society. I called Max. He answered on the second ring.
“You said Lana was investigating secret societies,” I started without preamble.
“Yeah.”
There was rustling on the phone line and it took me a second to realize he sounded like he’d just woken up. An apology was at the tip of my tongue, but the anxiety gripping me was louder.
“How often did she hang out with my brother?” I asked. “Do you know?”
“It seemed like she was friends with a lot of athletes. She was taking pictures at the sporting events.”
I sat back. “So basically, the same job I currently have?”
“Yep and Ella had told her she could write about student life and she chose to write about the secret societies we’d all heard about.”
My grip tightened around my cell phone. So what if we had the same task assigned to us? It didn’t mean anything. Not really, anyway.
“Mae?”
“Yeah.” I blinked out of my thoughts and cleared my throat. “I’m here.”
“Why are you asking all of these questions at this ungodly hour?”
/>
“It’s like noon, Max.” I pulled the phone from my ear briefly and looked at the time. “It’s twelve twenty.”
He sighed. “It feels earlier.”
“I’ll let you get back to sleep. Sorry I woke you up.”
“No biggie.” He was quiet for a beat. “You know, normally when people wake you up, it’s because they’re going to invite you to brunch or something.”
“I would, but I have a ton of things I need to do,” I said. “I’ll see you tonight though.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Before I forget,” I said. “Does the paper usually provide a laptop?”
“Usually yeah. I mean, unless you have great picture editing programs on yours. Why?”
“I didn’t quite catch the password for the one they gave me.” I opened the laptop in front of me again. I doubted Max would find out I never got one from the paper, to begin with.
“Oh. It’s fuck you pay me. All together and all caps,” he snorted a laugh. “The interns in IT thought that would be funny.”
I tried the password FUCKYOUPAYME and clicked return. Sure enough, the laptop started up quickly. I held my breath and told Max I had to go as I hung up on him. The laptop had a few folders on it, one which was labeled: SS photos. The other: Hockey. I clicked on SS first. There was a photo of the little black card I’d received and the white gardenia. The next one I clicked was taken outside in a wooded area. The next one was of a waterfall, and lastly, a building on top of the waterfall. Five photos in total. I looked at each of them one more time, making a mental note before pulling out my phone and taking pictures with it as well.
I didn’t want to email them to myself and create a paper trail. As it was, I wasn’t sure why I had this in my possession, to begin with. I knew I’d have to confront Lincoln about it. The last thing I wanted was to bring my brother down, but there was no way around this. I looked at the hockey photos she’d taken. There were over two hundred pictures, mostly games, practices, and group shots. Some were individual shots—my brother holding his hockey stick, Logan looking straight at the camera with a serious look on his face that showed off his high cheekbones and defined chin, Nolan grinning, and some other guys I didn’t know.
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