Chapter 27 Sam
Sam
I am positively giddy with anticipation. After finding out that old bitch, Betty, is my so-called mother, I’ve been itching to take her out. So glad Em and I are on the same page.
It's still mid-afternoon, so we have time to discuss what exactly we want to do.
We both sit cross-legged on our bed, facing each other.
“What is the plan?” I ask Em.
She chews her bottom lip in thought. “I think we should wait until nightfall. It'll be easier to cloak ourselves in the darkness to be able to get inside.” She pauses, thinking. “Can you drive? I can’t.”
“No, sorry. I was never let out to be able to learn,” I admit.
“Fuck, that’s what I figured. Okay, another obstacle is getting inside if it’s locked. Can you pick a lock?”
I shake my head.
“We’re going to need someone’s help. Someone who won’t tattle and knows that skill.” Em nods after a minute. “Purge is a good choice, I think. I doubt he’ll be in the computer room in the middle of the night. Let's wait until he goes back to his room.”
“Sounds good. Now… what to do until then?” A slow grin slides across my face.
Em laughs. “I sure as fuck don’t want to sleep.”
I lean in, kissing my girl. Such a perfect way to pass the time.
Phoenyxx
It's eleven p.m. and all seems quiet.
Sam and I are dressed in all black already.
I managed to sneak into the kitchen earlier and pilfer a couple of butcher knives.
It's time to talk to Purge.
I pop open the door, peeking up and down the hall. We walk out on quiet feet, moving to Purge’s room. I knock softly, hoping he’ll hear.
The door opens, a surprised expression on Purge’s face. He's looking edible-shirtless with mussed blonde hair, glasses perched on his face, and wearing only grey sweatpants. What is it about sweats on a guy that’s so fucking hot?
“Like what you see, Iskra?” Purge asks, making me flush a bit.
“Fuck yes, I do. Can we come in?” I shift from foot to foot.
He widens the door to usher us in. “What’s going on?”
I pace in front of his bed, where he sits with Sam. “We are going to take care of the Solomons tonight.” I hold up a hand to stop any interruptions. “Don’t try to talk me out of it, either. We need a driver, and someone who can pick a lock.”
“And who won’t tell,” Sam chimes in.
“Fuck, Iskra. That's a huge ask. When the others find out, there will be hell to pay,,” Purge says nervously.
“Do we need to worry about your father?” Sam asks pointedly.
“I don’t think so. Since they’re in hiding, I doubt they’ll be skulking about the Solomon place. They can’t exactly have eyes on us when they don’t know where the compound is.”
“Good. So, will you help us? Please?” I bat my eyes dramatically, sweeping him with a lusty gaze.
Purge groans. “Dammit, Iskra, I can’t tell you no.”
I hug him tightly, feeling elated and jazzed to do this shit. “Let’s go now.”
“Let me put a shirt and shoes on.” Purge shrugs on a black tee and sneakers. “Follow me and be quiet.”
We line up behind Purge and follow him to the garage. He bypasses the code, allowing us entry. He glances around, then leads us to a common-looking black car with tinted windows.
“This is good. We won’t stand out and will blend in with the darkness,” Purge explains.
I nod and he opens the car door, leaning in to reach underneath the dashboard. He fiddles with some wires, and the car comes to life. It seems to have a quiet engine, thankfully.
We climb in, and head for the gate. Purge finds a remote attached to the visor, same as when Trikk took a car form here. It lifts, letting us out into the chilly November night.
He floors it, getting us away fast.
“I know where they live—I can get us there,” Purge says with a grin.
During the ride, Sam hugs me into his side reassuringly. My heart pounds in anticipation. Purge slides his hand on my thigh. It's both arousing and comforting to be between them.
Purge gets to a neighborhood marked with streetlights. He begins to slow, and I perk up in my seat. “I know this area. It's close. Their house is cut off from others, set back more, though.”
“I know, sweet Iskra.” Purge smiles at me briefly.
He goes a few blocks, moving farther away from the neighborhood.
We drive about another mile or so, and the streetlights disappear.
He turns right, following a narrow dirt road another couple of miles until we see a long driveaway.
Purge cuts the lights, gliding to a stop several feet from the driveway.
“We walk from here. Stick together, and to the shadows when possible.” Purge looks at Sam and I, and we both nod.
Instead of heading straight up the drive, we walk to the left of it, where more shadows lurk. We shuffle forward, and I finally see the towering house emerge through the blackness.
I make a tiny sound in my throat. Sam cuts his gaze to me, and I nod—it’s the right place.
We get to the front of the house, and Purge motions us to follow him around to the back. I'm confident he knows what he’s doing. If anyone knows the layout of this place, it’s Purge.
There’s a sliding door in the back, but he bypasses it, electing to walk a bit farther to a small door I had no idea existed. It's old, with a simple knob and lock.
Purge palms his tools, getting the door unlocked flawlessly with a soft click.
I grip my knife hidden under my black hoodie. I see Sam’s hand under his hoodie doing the same thing.
My mouth dries up as Purge turns the knob, and we tiptoe inside.
I can’t help trembling when I’m standing inside the Hell House, memories rushing through my chaotic mind. I take a couple of deep breaths to ground myself.
Purge makes the “come on” gesture, and we stay close behind him.
My hands sweat when we sneak through the kitchen, to a side of the house I’ve never seen. Looming dead ahead is a winding staircase.
We ascend, stopping at the very top. There's an endless-looking hallway with doors on each side.
I tap on Purge’s shoulder, and he turns to me.
I mouth, “Which one is their room?”
Purge points to the end of the hallway, gesturing to the left side.
We creep to the last door on the left.
Purge oh-so-slowly turns the knob and slips in first, closely followed by me and Sam.
There's a huge four-poster bed in the center of the room, where both Betty and Matthew are fast asleep.
Sam and I slide our knives out, holding them at the ready. Purge steps back into the shadows, giving us full rein.
A malicious smile forms on my lips, and I stride forward in glee. I get to Betty’s side and reach down to shake the cunt awake.
“What? Who's there?” Betty asks irritably in a sleepy voice.
“Guess who, you putrid bitch?” I whisper with a light cackle.
Her arm snaps out, turning on the lamp next to the bed. “Phoenyxx? What the hell are you doing here? You vile child! I’m calling to get you sent right back to The Retreat!”
Betty reaches for her phone, but Sam steps forward, smacking it out of her hand.
“No,” is all he says.
“Who are you?” Betty asks, anger in her voice.
At this point, Matthew finally rouses. He starts to speak, but Betty smacks him in the head.
So fucking typical. She always took the lead.
The brazen bitch rears up to try and grab my arm.
I jerk away from her, tutting. “Uh-uh, no you don’t. It's time for karma to make you it’s bitch.”
I angle my knife arm a bit sideways, holding it diagonally. Slicing downward, I manage to cut her hand.
Betty lets out a yell, cursing me.
Matthew's face turns comically white, and he lurches upward to get out of bed. It's too easy for Sam to shove his old ass back down.
Sam shuffles up next to me, and we quickly shift sides.
As Sam and I move around, we don’t see that sly fuck Matthew reach under his pillow. He yanks out a gun, shakily pointing it at us.
“Don’t even breathe,” he stutters. “I will shoot both of you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Purge move further into the shadows, his hand reaching for his pocket.
Sam yells in outrage, pushing forward to grapple for the gun with Matthew.
Betty is screaming like a banshee, and I backhand her to shut her ass up.
My heart stops in my chest as I watch helplessly, praying Sam gets ahold of that gun. I hold my breath, watching it play out, with wide eyes.
Sam lands a punch in Matthew’s face, wrestling him onto his back, his hand on the muzzle of the gun. More shouting flows between them.
All of a sudden, a shot rings out in the room. A high-pitched wail leaves my mouth as I rush to get to Sam. He is slumped over Matthew, who is struggling to push his dead weight off.
“No!” I somehow gain the strength to turn him over, seeing blood coming from his arm.
Purge runs over, effortlessly lifting him off Matthew. He strips off his shirt, using it to bind Sam’s arm tightly to cut off the blood flow.
“He’ll be fine, Iskra. It doesn’t look like it hit anything vital.”
I need to get on with this. I inwardly plead for Sam to wake up as I deal with betty and Matthew.
I reach for Matthew, who is cowering back into the mattress. I glance at Betty, who is frozen in place, a sneer on her face.
My hand encircles his throat tightly. I don’t squeeze just yet. Looking at Betty again, I warn her, “Don’t fucking move, bitch. I can and will choke this fucker out.”
“Em?” a hoarse voice croaks, and I almost weep in relief.
“Sam, thank fuck! Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I must have passed out,” he admits, his face red with embarrassment.
Cutting my gaze to Purge, who is standing at the foot of the bed, I ask, “Is he okay enough to continue?”
“Yeah, Iskra. As long as he feels up to it.”
“Damn straight I am,” Sam says, walking around the bed to reach Betty.
“You have the floor,” I tell my Golden-Eyed Boy.
Sam bends at the waist to stare hard at Betty. “Do you recognize me?”
“Why would I recognize you, boy?” she spits.
“Look closer... Mother,” Sam sneers, curling up his lip.
Betty gasps, and Matthew just looks confused.
I squeeze Matthew’s neck a bit tighter. “What’s wrong, Matty? Are you confused?”
“Explain. Now,” Sam orders Betty.