Weston made a gagging sound, turning away. Zayde stared impassively at the body, then pulled out his phone.
“I need another favour… Yeah. Clean-up crew… Same place.”
He ended the call. “I’m going to meet the others. Check the rest of the building.”
“I’m going with him. I need some fresh air.” Weston scrubbed a hand across his face, blowing out a breath, then disappeared back down the corridor. I stood, still staring down at the body, trying to process everything. What the fuck had happened here?
Cassius came to stand beside me. “He’ll never get a chance to get ahead in life, now,” he commented, using the toe of his shoe to point to the dead guy’s skull.
Twisting around, I stared at him.
“Get it? Ahead? His head?”
I raised a brow. “Really. You got jokes, now?”
“I’ve always got jokes.” He shrugged.
“Right…” I cleared my
throat. “Get your head in the game. Come on.”
We started walking down the corridor, avoiding the pool of blood that had spread around the body.
“Cade!”
My brother’s urgent shout from the doorway sent me spinning around, and I was standing in front of him before I was even aware I’d moved. “What? Is it Winter?”
He handed me his phone. “It’s Kinslee.”
Kinslee? I held the phone to my ear. “What?”
“Caiden. Fuck. I’m so glad I got hold of you guys.” Her voice was shaky. “I’m…I’m at the hospital. With Winter. Not the local hospital; I’m at Lansdown General. Can you come?”
Winter. “On my way,” I said brusquely, then ended the call, handing the phone to Weston. “Let’s go. Winter’s at Lansdown General Hospital.”
She was in hospital.
With Kinslee.
Safe.
I fucking hoped.
“Why not the local hospital? What the fuck is going on?”
I had no answer for Cassius. And at the moment, I didn’t care. I needed Winter to be okay. That was the only thing on my mind.
We pulled into the hospital car park forty minutes later, and West called Kinslee to find out where to go. After getting lost following her instructions, we eventually ended up in the waiting room of a large ward, all white, sterile walls, and blue padded chairs with metal frames.
Kinslee appeared in the corridor, her hair pulled back, dressed in yoga pants and a thick jumper. She crooked a finger at us, exhaustion clear in her face.
I raced over to her. “Where is she?” I didn’t bother with pleasantries—I needed to see Winter. Now.
“Come on.” I followed her down the corridor to a small, private room. She opened the door.
Snowflake.
Whoever did this to her was going to fucking pay.