Chapter 3 #2
Not even half a minute later, two Dobermans stalked around the corner of the house. They zeroed in on Sullivan and bolted toward him.
Leaving the keys in the cupholder so I didn't have to worry about losing them, I jumped out and whistled, drawing their attention to me. I took off running across the front lawn toward the trees that surrounded the perimeter of the house.
"Zayn!" Sullivan sounded like he was running after me and the dogs.
I spun around and let out a growl, the two dogs coming to a screeching halt. Baring my teeth and my claws, I moved toward them, showing them that if they wanted to fight, I'd fight them.
They showed their own teeth, but then it was as if a lightbulb went off in their heads and they cowered, their tails tucking and whimpers coming from each of them.
"Stay here." My voice was distorted by my fangs as I walked past them and a gaping Sullivan. "What? You've never put dogs in their place before? Mangy mutts think they run the roost with their expensive collars and air-conditioned dog houses."
With a chuckle, Sullivan followed me back toward the house. "Someone is jealous of dogs. Let's hope Marcos doesn't have any cats."
"I don't fuck with cats. They will claw out an eye."
Kingston was waiting for us by the front door. "There are cameras everywhere, so I say we wait here for his men to show."
I didn't see what good breaking into his house was going to do since he obviously wasn't home. Judging by the way I left him lying in the dirt, he wouldn't be home for a while, and we didn't have a while to find out where Wren was.
Kingston kicked open the front door and walked in like he owned the house himself. With a shrug, Sullivan followed him, leaving me wondering how I'd let Kingston take the reins on our rescue mission when he was still suffering from the blow to the back of his head.
I had no other choice but to follow them, glancing at the security panel blinking on the wall. It wasn't making any beeping noises yet, so for now I'd go with Kingston's plan of waiting.
"Now what?" Both of them had taken a seat in the formal living room with a view facing the front. "Are we just going to hang out here and relax? Should I go see if there's any ice cream? I bet it would really piss Marcos off if we got chocolate on his fancy-looking sofas."
Kingston stared at me for what felt like ten minutes but was more like ten seconds. "Sit down, Zayn. It will take them at least ten or fifteen minutes to get here. We need to talk about how we're going to handle you nearly killing Marcos. He's in surgery right now."
"How did you find that out?" Sullivan sat forward on the couch, resting his arms on his legs and clasping his hands. It made his shoulders look huge, and I couldn't help but stare as I paced in front of the stone fireplace.
"I have a lot of eyes and ears when I need them." Kingston checked his phone again. "There's a vehicle with two of his guys headed this way now. They should be here in five minutes."
"When they get here, let me do the talking." I punched into my opposite hand.
Sullivan snorted, and I stopped and glared at him. He raised his hands in surrender. "You don't make sense half the time."
"You know what doesn't make sense to me? How you were bleeding to death all over the backseat and now you're perfectly fine." I waved my hand, gesturing to his body before crossing my arms over my chest. "You have some explaining to do."
Sullivan shrugged. "I have no fucking clue what happened. One second I was fighting, and the next, my throat was being ripped out."
"You should have died, yet here you are acting like you had a power nap." I started pacing again. "Are you on some kind of special drug?"
"No. Don't you think if I was on some kind of drug, I wouldn't have lost? Maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked, like Kingston said. You know, head wounds bleed a lot, so I assume neck wounds do too."
"None of this would have happened if you wouldn't have shown up here.
" I didn't know why I was lashing out at him.
It was keeping my mind off Wren, though, which, at that moment, was all that was keeping me from going to whatever hospital Marcos was at, getting the information I needed out of him, and then slicing off his dick and shoving it down his throat until he died.
"It seems to me like none of this started happening until Wren showed up here. But I forget that you’re blinded by your childish infatuation with her." Sullivan leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head.
"Shut the hell up." I lunged for Sullivan and Kingston jumped up, putting his hand on my chest to stop me.
"Look, sometimes things happen that we can't explain." He pushed me back.
"You're defending him talking about our girl like that?" I batted his hand off my chest. "And here I was willing to share her."
"She isn't some fucking toy." Sullivan stood and Kingston pushed him back on the couch.
"No one said she was a toy!" I was going to punch him in the face but instead headed for the hallway. "I'm not going to sit here and wait for them to show up. I'll check the basement."
"Timeline wise, it's impossible they've been here." Sullivan rolled his eyes and I ignored him.
I thought we had put our differences aside, but clearly, I was wrong. I wasn't convinced he didn't know how he had healed so fast. I hadn't had a chance to read the information Kingston had dug up on him yet, but it was going on the top of my list of things to do once we found Wren.
I found the basement door off the kitchen, but it was solid metal and locked, so kicking it wouldn't have done any good. I was going to try anyway, though, because a man kept a lot of secrets in his basement. At least, according to true crime documentaries.
Backing up, I inhaled deeply and ran at it, hitting it with my shoulder. Pain radiated from the hit, and I stumbled backwards, tripping over my feet and falling on my ass.
"Jesus Christ." Sullivan was watching me with a look of annoyance. "I thought you wanted to find Wren. It's like you think this is a fucking joke."
Looking up at him, my stomach flopped at his words and his intense stare. Nothing about Wren being taken was a joke, and I'd prove it to him.