SAMANTHA
Logan leaped from Nate’s car and hurried over to ours.
He flung my door open. “Let’s switch. I’ll go back with Taylor.”
I was slow to release my seatbelt. “What did you guys do?” I asked as I stood.
“Nothing really.” He cast a worried glance over my shoulder, to the road. “But we gotta go in case any alarms were tripped. It’s not good if we’re seen here.”
He took my seat, and I jumped in next to Mason, who moved over behind Nate. Taylor reversed her car, and we pulled out after them.
I waited a few minutes before asking, “Do I want to know what happened?”
Nate’s eyes flicked up and met Mason’s in the rearview mirror. Mason’s jaw clenched, but he handed over a camera from on the floor by his seat. “You can see for yourself.”
The first video disgusted me.
The second had my
