Duke: Dark College Bully Romance (Bastards of Bainbridge Hall Book 3)
Duke: Chapter 3

I rake a hand through my hair, looking out into the night from the front steps, desperately trying to think of what we should do next. Right after the Hawthorne brothers had fucked off, we’d searched the house from top to bottom, then came outside, splitting up to search around the grounds. I’d taken the front while Duke and Mason covered the back side of the property and into the woods. We’d agreed to reconvene at the front of the house if we didn’t replace any sign of her.

My stomach roils viciously the longer Lennon is gone. I’d shouted until my voice went hoarse. None of it had done any good. She’s nowhere to be found. My heart clenches in my chest; stark, painful worry tumbles through me. The last time I saw her, our eyes had connected across the ballroom. I’d given her the signal that she needed to exit as quickly as she could. She’d made it up to her room, that much is clear. But after that, we don’t have a fuckin’ clue what happened outside of the fact that she’s no longer wearing the black dress she’d had on at the event.

The heavy front door opens with a creak, and I pivot on my heel, hope rising within me. In a flash, I envision Mason and Duke standing with an apologetic—but perfectly safe—Lennon between them.

But that isn’t what materializes. Hunter appears on the steps, his signature shit-eating smile strangely absent. He questions roughly, “Where are Mason and Duke? I need a word with the three of you.” Snapping the door shut behind him, he turns his nasty gaze on me.

I frown, annoyed by his agitated tone. The guy is a certifiable douchebag, and he almost always has some smart fucking remark to make, especially if it means jabbing at his brother. But this … this feels different somehow. He’s highly irritated. More than pissed off. “I don’t know why you’d have anything to say about how things went down tonight. We acted like the dickhead bastards of this hall, like our fathers requested.” I sigh, lifting my arms over my head in a stretch that turns out to be a mistake. I wince, worried that the dull ache inside my right shoulder is getting more serious.

Hunter shoots me a sly smirk, having caught the pain etching my features. “We’ll talk about the fuckery that went down once you’re all in front of me.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and cocking a brow, he stares at my arm before he inclines his head toward it. “Derek told me to only give you the package he sent if you came through for us tonight. I can tell you right now, this did not go to plan. He says you’re out of fucking luck.”

Oh. No. No, no, no. My eyes dart to his as my heart pounds and pounds, and my stomach turns, feeling sour. The bitch of it is there’s no way of discerning whether I’m worked up because of Lennon’s disappearing act or because I haven’t had any goddamn motherfucking oxy since this morning, and this asshat is going to take a great amount of pleasure in keeping it from me.

A corner of his mouth lifts as his eyes narrow. “I don’t claim to know what the package contains, but I can guess.” His eyes drift to my shoulder, and as if he’s telling some cruel joke, he laughs. “How’re you doing lately, Bear? You’re not sweating this, are you? I’m sure you’ll be just fucking fine at the fight tomorrow night without whatever it is you didn’t earn.”

“Fuck. You,” I growl, ten seconds from losing it.

Hunter glances to one side, taking in Mason’s approach as he hurries toward the front of the house, then looks in the opposite direction to see Duke hauling ass as well. He leans closer to me, murmuring low. “Do they know? Should we discuss it in front of them?” His eyes gleam with malicious intent that makes me want to punch his lights out. I would love nothing more than to get inside a ring with him, fucked-up shoulder or not. He needs to be taught a goddamn lesson.

I can’t help myself and don’t think twice before lunging to shove the asshat hard enough that he slams against the door behind him, the back of his head knocking into it with a sharp crack.

“What’s going on?” Mason huffs, eyeing his brother warily as he jogs to the foot of the steps before looking to me for answers.

My teeth clamp down so hard, they may crack from the pressure. I stare at Hunter with enough venom in my eyes to kill, then stomp down the stairs. Grabbing Mason to me by the back of his neck, I lower my head, quietly whispering near his ear, “I don’t know what’s up, but he’s got some fucked-up ideas about how we handled things tonight. He’s been in touch with the OGs. Beware. Keep a cool head.”

Mason pulls back, meeting my gaze with eyes full of discontent. He nods, slowly digesting my words and shoving his hands in his pockets. His head swivels, and he aims a steady glare at his brother. “Out with it. You’ve already threatened me once tonight. What’s with the surly smile?”

Duke arrives a moment later, stopping next to Mason, and breathing hard. He meets our eyes in turn, shaking his head. He didn’t replace anything either. Shit. “What’s going on?” I don’t miss the supportive hand Duke lifts and rests on Mason’s back, though I doubt Hunter can see it.

Speaking of the asshole, he pushes away from the door—where I fucking put him—then wets his lips and gives me a nasty wink as he saunters down the steps to join us, obnoxiously drawing this BS out. “Now that you’re all here, I’ll relay the message that Tristan and Derek are disappointed with how things played out tonight. Expect to feel the repercussions of that.”

Duke shoots him a tight-lipped smirk. “Yeah, considering you fucking disappeared at the height of the bidding on Elliot, when she’s supposedly so fucking important to the OG Bastards, I bet your part in tonight’s mayhem didn’t go over so well either.” He cocks his head to the side, and I see the way he’s about to push Hunter’s buttons before he even does it. “You still stuck being their lackey instead of a true member of the alum, Hunter? How long do you think they’re going to make you dance for them like the trained fucking monkey you are?”

Direct. Hit.

As we look on, Hunter’s face mottles with red. “Everyone has to pay their dues. You’d best get that through your heads right now.” He stops and crosses his arms over his chest. “What the hell was that mess with you hauling Elliot offstage?”

Mason’s been quietly eyeing his brother, but he’s had enough. “What were we supposed to do? You disappeared at the most inopportune moment, and we had to come up with a plan on the fly. We did the best we could with the limited information we had.”

“I told you the OGs wanted her, goddammit!” Spit flies from his mouth as he shouts, and his eyes blaze with anger. “Admit you messed that up on purpose and maybe I won’t share with them that you didn’t fight hard enough, and you willingly let her go.”

My jaw works to the side, his admission clear. We were right. He’d been watching us somehow. “Then you fucked up by not telling us what to do. We had her. We got $4200 for her. That’s gonna have to be e-fucking-nough. Maybe next time clue us in better, so we can get the job done,” I growl as all three of us take a menacing step toward him, almost as if we’d planned it.

Like a switch has flipped, Hunter crosses his arms over his chest, looking around with a bit of a smile on his face that seems completely out of place given the circumstances. “Elliot isn’t even your only problem. This auction was meant to teach Lennon a lesson in obedience, one that Tristan demanded, specifically. I think you all should be the ones to tell him you couldn’t get the job done.”

Duke bristles, the muscle in his jaw jumping. His eyes bore into Hunter’s. “Nah. I’m not speaking to my father about this. But if you want to, you can relay this message about what we think of his demands and those of the OG Bastards.” Chest heaving, he grits out, “Tell him to get fucked.” With that, Duke eyes both of us. “This fucker isn’t worth a second more of our time.”

I know what he’s thinking. Every fucking second we waste here is another we spend not knowing Lennon’s whereabouts. He’s right. We can’t spare another goddamn minute.

Duke shoves past Hunter to jog up the stairs. Mason pauses, wetting his lips. “And a message from me? You can tell Dad that I hope he rots in there. I want no part in helping him get out.” Mason flips him the bird, then, as he passes his brother, unexpectedly checks his shoulder, sending him stumbling backward. He meets Duke at the door, and they let themselves into the house without a backward glance.

Hunter shakes his head. “Where’d Lennon run off to, anyway? I’d like to finally meet the bitch capable of driving this entire brotherhood crazy.”

That’s when I lose it. My right shoulder may be injured, and I might be in blinding pain, but it only fuels my fire. My left arm? It’s just fine. I jab him full in the nose, both feeling and hearing the crack of bone before he falls to his knees, clutching at his face as blood spurts from it. “Fuck you, you arrogant ass.”

I stalk inside, hating the dead quiet of the house. Mason and Duke are in the kitchen, both sitting at the island, several bottles of water in front of them.

With panicked eyes, Mason glances up as he pushes water my way. “Where could she be?”

But none of us has a goddamn answer, and I can see it’s close to sending him over the edge—honestly, all of us are poised on it. Duke is twitchy. I’m ragey. We’re a hot fucking mess. I shake my head before chugging water, unsure what to say.

Duke’s gaze narrows on my bloody hand, and before he can even say anything, I quickly go over to the sink to wash away the evidence of my outburst. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I grunt. “He opened his mouth. Wanted to meet ‘the bitch’ who has us all crazy or something like that.” I huff out an irritated sound from deep within my chest. “Condescending prick. I broke his nose. It’s all his blood.”

“What the fuck do we do now?” Duke shakes his head, fear sneaking its way into his eyes, his controlled mask slipping.

Mason looks to me, too, outright anguish pouring from every cell in his body.

My throat thick, I murmur, “Search the house again. We can’t give up. She’s gotta be somewhere.” They’re looking to me to fix this, to make everything right in our world, and I don’t fucking know how.

Mason shakes his head uncertainly. “I don’t know which is worse, tipping our hand to the OGs that we can’t replace her or the god-awful state of limbo we’re in by not having access to the cameras. They’ve gotta have them installed. How else would they know so much?”

I growl, “You’re assuming they’d let us look. Motherfuckers. I’m so fucking done with this.” Entirely too frustrated for words, I pick up my half-full bottle of water and whip it across the kitchen where it smacks into the cabinet next to the cooktop with a loud thump. Gritting my teeth, my eyes crash shut.

“Someone could have taken her from the house,” Duke bites out. “They could be miles away by now.”

“I hope to fuck she took off for some reason on her own and will be back when she thinks it’s safe. Because if that’s not the case, I don’t see that we have any fucking choice other than to contact the OGs.” There’s a tightening in my chest that makes it so hard to breathe … and only Lennon safe in my arms is going to fix it. Please, Little Gazelle, be okay. Be safe. Unharmed. Come back to us.