Chapter 40
FORTY
I wipe the blood off my face with the back of my sleeve, then turn to look at Blair. Her eyes are dull, almost dead, as she fires another shot, taking the second man down. It’s a sight I never wanted to see — her getting used to the brutality this world represents.
But there’s no going back. It’s too late for me to wish for her to find a way out of this dark, endless hole. Because I’ve been one selfish bastard. The moment I massacred the prison for her, then slowly led her to me, the decision was made — Blair became mine.
I observed from the shadows, followed her every move, and even dictated it at times.
It all brought her straight into my arms. And I haven’t let go of her since.
She belongs with me, body, mind, and soul.
I don’t give a shit about being selfish, because on so many levels, Blair completes me in ways no one else could ever do.
She takes in a deep breath, then turns to look at me. Instantly, it’s like a switch flips. She offers a smile, her eyes lighting up. The fact that I’m covered in blood, head to toe, and she isn’t scared of me just makes me love her even more.
My feet move toward her on their own accord, but before I can close the distance between us, I’m shoved into the wall with full force. My back cracks, and the shoulder that got pushed starts aching.
“Are you fucking blind?”
Cove’s harsh words make me blink the pain away, focusing on the surroundings. The wall behind the very same spot I stood not a moment ago is filled with three bullet holes. If Cove hadn’t pushed me away, they would’ve been between my eyes.
“Fuck,” I hiss, then straighten up. My butterfly’s by my side quickly, but I don’t let her get a look at the shoulder. Instead, I take her hand and lead her away from the main area. It’s the living room on the ground floor, and there’s no sight of Woods.
“Do you think he left?”
I shake my head. “No way. He’d never have the balls to leave his hiding place.”
“Hiding place?” Curiosity laces her tongue as I pull her behind a pillar, avoiding the bullets that fly our way. I peek around it, shooting a round, and watch as the target falls down.
“Mm,” I hum, replacing the clip. The old one hits the floor with a thud, but amidst all the chaos, it barely reaches my ears. “He’s too much of a coward to try and leave when his place is being shot at.”
Blair doesn’t say much more, and once the coast is clear, I take her hand in mine, taking her upstairs. The stairs are wide, and men from upstairs start shooting our way. Immediately, my entire body covers Blair’s, and a bullet grazes my shoulder.
I wince a little but manage to hit the man square in the throat. He falls over the railing, his skull hitting the floor first, and let’s just say it’s not a pretty sight. It gets split, and for a moment, I’m positive I can see his brain.
Blair gags from behind me, and I waste no more time. This house has four floors, and I know Woods is somewhere on the upper floors. He wouldn’t go to the basement, simply because it’s the only place with no exit plan.
The first thing I spot is Aria head-butting a man twice her size. He groans in pain, and she switches to kneeing him in the groin. He doubles over in pain, the gun dropping from his hands. I look away as soon as she pulls the trigger, continuing the rushed walk.
Some rooms are empty; some have a few of Woods’ men that either Blair or I take down.
My breathing gets heavy, but the adrenaline that rushes through my veins is much welcome.
It’s been a fucking while since I did something like this, and now that I have the chance to kill these motherfuckers, excitement blooms in my chest.
The last room on the upper floor is also empty, and I start getting irritated. It’s an office of sorts, though definitely half-empty. If there were any sort of important documents here, Woods destroyed them in time.
Blair closes the door behind her, making sure to lock it. Her eyes glide through the room, her brows narrowing. She’s silent for a while, deeply concentrating, her hand tightening around the gun.
“What is it, butterfly?”
“Can you ask someone to check the basement?”
I nod, taking my phone out. The only person who would drop everything to chase more adrenaline and quite possibly get the opportunity to take out Woods is Kaya. I shoot her a quick text, watching as the small bubble appears on the bottom part of the screen.
“No,” I sigh. “He’s not in the basement.”
“He isn’t in any of the rooms, either. Raven’s on the roof, so he would’ve told us if he left the manor. Meaning, he’s still inside.”
“A hidden room,” it clicks in my head, to which Blair nods. “But this house is fucking massive. Where do we even begin to look?”
“His men are dying one by one,” Blair shrugs. “We haven’t lost a single one. He’ll be forced to come out of hiding soon.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have the patience nor the time to wait on him. Let’s start looking.”
She sighs but doesn’t protest. Her shoulders are slightly tense when she starts rummaging through the drawers of his desk.
It’s all empty, the books on the shelves old, worn out, and definitely well-read.
However, there’s nothing that could be used as evidence of his shady business or anything about where he keeps all the money.
Well, no matter, I’ll find it using different means.
Blair’s fingers gently run all over the spines of the books, her eyes narrowing slightly. With ease, she pulls one, and the shelf on the far left side slightly gets pushed forward.
“You’re a genius.”
“Definitely not,” she chuckles, approaching the shelf. “Just thought I’d give it a try. Very cliché and predictable, if you ask me.”
She’s about to reach for the shelf and pull it when I grab her wrist. I give her a pointed look, and with a sigh, she steps aside, letting me take the lead and pull the shelf. It’s heavy, but not nearly as heavy as I thought it’d be.
It reveals a small door with a big, metal padlock. Woods clearly thought at least one of his men would remain alive to let him out.
“Should we just… leave him to die inside?”
“No,” Blair chews on the inside of her cheek. “He probably has some sort of weapon; the bastard would get out. Let’s just get it over with. I’m getting tired.”
I chuckle, kissing her forehead, then stepping back. I aim for the padlock, then pull the trigger twice. The padlock snaps in half, dropping to the floor. Blair’s a few feet behind me, and when she gives me the nod of approval, I shove the door with my foot.
“Stay here.”
“As if,” she scoffs, then prepares her gun.
I roll my eyes at her cheekiness before bending down and stepping inside. I don’t even get the chance to take four steps inside before a figure starts running toward me from the dark corner.
Blair turns on the light behind me, just as I duck down. Woods stumbles forward, giving me just enough time to get a hold of his hands. I push him to the floor, and when I see the fear on his face, the Ghost in me wakes up.
It’s rare for me to torture men like this. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve tortured a man, then killed him. However, I can’t control myself when I’m finally face-to-face with one of Paul’s most trusted friends.
His gun slips from his hands, and panic flashes behind his eyes. A dark smirk tugs on my lips, and I hit him square in the jaw. He groans in pain, trying to push me off him, but it’s futile. I’m taller and fucking stronger than this little bitch.
“This has been long overdue, don’t you think?”
Fear grows on his face, losing all color. He gulps, his hands trembling when he reaches up to touch his jaw. It’s not dislocated just yet, but a bruise started forming the moment my knuckles touched his filthy skin.
“Wait—”
“Oh, I’m not waiting a fucking thing,” I hiss in his face, grabbing him by the collar. I lift him off the floor, slamming him against the floor. He coughs, his eyes widening in shock — or pain? I can’t tell, and I don’t care to find out.
“I did nothing to you,” he rasps out.
My jaw clenches, and one hand wraps around his throat tightly. Effectively, I cut off his oxygen. It’s not enough to kill him, but it’s enough to fucking scare him.
“Hm, let’s talk about something. Remember Zoe?”
“Nelson’s wife?” He croaks.
“Yes, she’s dead.”
He doesn’t seem surprised. In fact, something akin to relief is in his eyes, and it angers me further. My body starts trembling in pure rage, my nails digging into the sides of his neck.
“Who cares?” He manages to utter out. “She was a liability.”
“A liability?” I repeat my words, a dark, dangerous whisper.
“She was a fucking child when Nelson kidnapped her. She was barely eighteen when he married her. She was just a fucking child, you rotten, sick motherfucker.” I slam him against the wall again, his gasping for air only fueling my anger.
“And more than that, she was my cousin. My flesh and blood. She was someone’s daughter.
She was someone’s cousin, friend. She was someone, you sick fuck. ”
“It’s not—”
That’s the last thing I let him utter. My rage wins, and with my free hand, I take out the small pocket knife I have a habit of carrying around. It was a gift for my fourth birthday from Aunt Jane. It’s always been one of the items I cherished the most, and somehow, it’s fitting to use it.
My hand drops from his throat, his mouth opening to take a deep intake of breath. However, I don’t let him have it. I plunge my fingers into his mouth, pulling his tongue out.
His eyes widen almost comically when he realizes what’s about to happen — but it’s too late. The sharp knife slices through the flesh, his severed tongue falling down to his feet.
Blood starts gushing out, but I can’t find it in me. He tries to scream, but no sound comes out. His eyes are filled with tears streaming down his cheeks, and it doesn’t help erase all the anger I’ve been feeling for years.
He slumps to the floor, his body shaking pathetically in pain.
That’s when I use the knife and start slicing every inch of his flesh I possibly can.
From the skin on his cheeks to the shoulders, thighs, and stomach.
The pieces of clothes come off alongside his skin until the motherfucker passes out.
I’m not done just yet, though.
My hand tightens around the handle of the pocketknife, and I make an example out of the bastard, engraving my family’s symbol into the bastard’s forehead. More specifically, the symbol that comes from the Campbell’s side — Mom’s side.
“Arlo,” Blair breathes out, and I turn to look at her. “He’s dead.”
“Not yet,” I mutter, taking my gun and shooting him in the chest, just to ensure he won’t be able to stay alive. Vigor splashes all over my face, and when I see that he no longer has a heartbeat, the anger slowly starts disappearing.
“Now,” I breathe out, taking Blair’s hand in mine, not looking back.
She’s silent, letting me soak in the moment. My phone buzzes, and I pause to read the text. A smirk tugs on my lips when I turn the screen to Blair, her brows lifting to her hairline.
“Is that a smart idea?”
Arlo shrugs. “Who knows?”
Two of our men pass by, and I stop them. I take them a couple of steps away, whispering, giving instructions. They both nod, and I motion with my head toward Blair to follow me.
Our people have finished their task in here, and all of his men are dead. Kaya sent the text earlier, telling me the entire place has gasoline poured all over.
When we step outside, the crisp air feels liberating, in a way. This is definitely the best possible outcome this night could’ve had, and I’m more than happy that the motherfucker died by my hand.
Everyone else left, leaving Blair and me by the front gates. The two men who passed us leave the house shortly after, carrying Woods’ dead body. They position him outside of his property, leaning him against the metal gates.
“You can have the honors,” I say, taking out a pack of cigarettes. I light one, taking in a deep drag of the nicotine, feeling it hit my lungs. Blair takes the lighter out of my hands and tosses it onto the property.
Within minutes, everything’s in a pretty, blazing shade. The flowers, the trees, the house itself, and even the swing that’s been on the property for generations burst into flames.
My eyes find the side of Blair’s face, the spark from the fire making her features even prettier than before.
“Two down, three more to go.”