“Jeremy Dunvan is believed to be missing.” A picture of him flashed across the television screen. He was laughing in the photograph, smiling with a carefree look to whoever snapped the image. Then the reporter filled the screen with a somber expression over her face. Her eyes were sharp as she frowned into the camera. “If you have any information about the whereabouts of Jeremy Dunvan, call the number that is scrolling over the bottom of your screen. Again, if you have any knowledge at all about what might’ve happened to Jeremy Dunvan, please call this number.”

She continued to recite the same message. The police were notified by Jeremy’s father, Franco Dunvan, earlier in the morning that his 32 year old son had gone missing when he didn’t return home the prior evening. She recited it over and over again. I started to feel sick. More pictures of him came up. Some of them were with his friends. He wore a softball uniform in one, another with a beer in hand. All of them made him look friendly, handsome— not at all like the monster that I saw twenty-four hours ago.

A strangled sound came from Ben as he gaped at the television. One of his hands was twisted in his hair again. The other clutched the remote to his chest. His eyes were frantic. “I thought you said—” He stopped. His mouth closed, then opened again, then closed once more. His chest puffed up as he blinked rapidly for a second. “Holy shit, Emma. What did you do?”

My eyes narrowed and I lunged for him. He reared back as fear flared over him, but I swiped the remote from him and turned the television off. “He was raping her. He was killing her. He would’ve killed me too.” I stopped and swallowed over a knot in my throat. My eyes started to swim. “I did what I had to do.”

Ben gestured to the television again. His arm shook before it dropped back to his side. “Franco Dunvan. They said Franco Dunvan. Do you know who that is?”

“Yes,” I hissed out. God yes. I blinked back more tears. I sure as hell knew who had ordered the hit on my own brother.

“If you ever need anything, go to Carter.”

I shook my head to clear the last words my brother spoke to me before he rushed from our apartment. I followed him. He hadn’t wanted me to, but when he caught me in the alley, it was too late. They appeared at the end and he lifted me so I would be hidden.

I forced the memories away and spoke to Ben, “I told you this last night.”

“The day before yesterday.”

“What?” I stopped everything.

“The day before yesterday,” Ben murmured, lost in his own thoughts. “You came here two days ago.”

A whimper came from me. He’d been dead for two days now. Wait—was it? Time didn’t make sense anymore to me. But he was right. I always went to the gym after work at 5:00, but that day I got off early and skipped the gym. It was two nights ago when I killed him.

I had slept for almost twenty-four hours. I blinked in surprise. Had Mallory? I looked up quickly, but Ben shook his head. “She only fell asleep an hour ago. She hasn’t slept at all, neither have I.”

Oh.

Amanda reached around me and took the remote. The television was turned back on. As she sat on a couch, Ben sat beside her. Both of them settled back with determined looks on their faces. They were going to watch the news. They were going to hear all of it. And then, with my stomach clenching into a thousand knots, I went back and curled on the couch.

I tried to ready myself for what I was going to hear.

“Authorities will be conducting a thorough search for Jeremy Dunvan and we’ve learned that federal authorities will be brought into the case. They believe that Jeremy Dunvan’s disappearance may be connected to a string of mob feuds. Now,” her voice grew clearer. “We’ve been told from credible sources that Franco Dunvan, the father of Jeremy Dunvan, is a highly ranked member in the Bartel family. Federal authorities have been trying for years to get evidence against Mr. Joseph Bartel to indict possibly thirty members of their criminal organization.”

“Now, Angela,” a deeper voice spoke this time.

“Yes, Mark?” She was so chipper.

“Do the authorities believe this disappearance might be connected to the feud between the Bartel family and the Mauricio family?”

There was so much excitement in her voice. “While we haven’t been told for certain that they’re heading the investigation towards the Mauricio family, it certainly seems likely. The government has long tried to get evidence against Carter Reed, someone they believe is a high official in the Mauricio family.”

My heart stopped. I turned to the see the screen now. There was a picture of him.

I sucked in my breath.

I’d forgotten how clear his blue eyes were or how powerful the glare he sent to whomever had taken the photograph. He looked ready to kill whoever was behind the camera, but then another picture came next. This one was him in a black tuxedo as he got out of a black car. He had lifted a hand to block his face from being pictured, but they had been quicker. A sneer curved at the top of his lip, but even through the grainy image and blurred lines, the striking features were unmistakable.

“Go to Carter.”

AJ’s words floated back to me, but I couldn’t. I probably should’ve, but there was no way. He had been my brother’s best friend over ten years ago. He had joined the Mauricio family after AJ’s murder and, from what I heard, killed all of those that were a part of my brother’s death. A shiver went over me the first time I was told that, and those same shivers were felt again.