Chapter 17

“Hey,” said a ragged, scratchy, hoarse voice. “Hey. Hey, Bryn. Down here, man.”

Bryn’s insides quaked, liquefied, and he thought he might piss himself. Slowly, he tipped down his chin and made eye contact with the man who had crawled under Bryn’s chair and was lying on the floor, facing up and smiling at Bryn. He was pale blue from lack of oxygen. His tongue was swollen, and his eyes bulged like an astronaut in space without a helmet, desperately seeking atmosphere and not finding any. Around his neck was a ring of nasty bruises and rope burn.

Jared grinned at Bryn. “You should probably answer that.”

Bryn jumped when his phone started to ring again. He looked at the screen. It said Mommy Dearest was calling. Her. Again.

When Bryn looked down, Jared was no longer there. Bryn killed his phone, shut it off entirely. He tore out of his costume in record time. He threw on warm-ups, grabbed his stuff, and fled the room, leaving the lights blazing and the door wide open.3