THIRTY-TWO
As soon as the bullets leave the barrels within the manor, everyone attacks. The men that belong to Simmons and Adams draw out their weapons, scattering around the premises and hunting us down. Some are good, some are newbies, but regardless, there are more of them, yet it’s not in their favor.
It looks like they didn’t know the terrain, and those that look more comfortable have most likely been working for the motherfuckers for a while. They lead a group inside, and I watch as a couple of them drop dead at the entrance.
There’s no sound, no sight of the bullets, but they pierce through their skulls, and I know that it’s Raven. I don’t know exactly where the bastard’s positioned, but it’s either high up in a tree somewhere or on one of the big balconies that the manor has.
Blair is right behind me, and Aria runs past me. I cuss under my breath, worry latched on my face at the reckless behavior. As she passes me, the mask covers her mouth, but her eyes are widened in excitement, and that’s even worse.
I halt, the thoughts pushed at the back of my head for a moment when a couple of people surround Blair and me. They don’t give us time to react; they immediately start shooting. From the corner of my eye, I see Blair pulling out her gun and firing the shot immediately.
Pride blooms in my chest, but I focus on the men that are in front of me. I evade the bullets with precision that I’d been taught, not a single one hitting or grazing my body. It gives me momentum, and I don’t waste time before pulling the trigger, hitting each one of them right between their eyes.
In any other circumstance, I would’ve tortured them. But they’re just brainless lackeys, addicted to the dirty money they’re getting from Simmons. The amount is rather pathetic, but so are they, and I’m not surprised that they’ve fallen under the charms of easy, quick cash.
When the men who attacked us have been dealt with, I turn to Blair.
She’s panting, her hands trembling a little, but she’s managed to take down two of them on her own whilst I dealt with the other five. Her cheeks are pink from the harsh wind, and she’s trying to regain her breath. When she’s certain they’re dead, she lowers the gun down to her sides, gripping it in her hands and taking a deep breath.
A few drops of blood landed on her face, but she didn't seem to notice them. I do. And the sight is so erotic that I have to pause for a moment to calm Arlo Jr. down. This isn’t the time nor place for such thoughts.
“Are you okay?”
Blair’s eyes snap to mine, and she nods, though her hands don’t stop trembling. She’s not revealing what she’s thinking or feeling, and it’s making me uneasy. I can’t have her suddenly start to panic because the bullets are still raining all around us, and one mistake could be fatal.
“I’m okay,”
Blair mumbles. “It just…”
“Just?”
“I just killed two people, Arlo. And I don’t feel anything. Not a single thing. Not remorse, not guilt, or even a hint of sympathy. I’m indifferent to the point it’s scary.”
“It happens,”
I sigh, taking her hand in mine and pulling her away from the shooting. “But right now, we can’t deal with that. The backup team is starting to come out; let’s head inside.”
“Is that smart?” She asks.
“Mom and Dad will need help. Uncle Niko can’t help them on his own, and Aria is having too much fun playing around with these motherfuckers to be of any actual help. I’ll be right there with you, Blair, through it all.”
Blair nods, and I immediately signal for her to follow me. She trails closely behind me, my eyes darting all around to spot anyone. A single man steps forward, and before I can react, Blair plunges a knife deep into his chest.
His face shows shock, disbelief, and pain as the wound on his chest starts gushing out blood. Blair pulls the knife out, the vigor splashing her. Her face shows no emotions, and it truly is scary; however, we have much bigger things to deal with right now.
When he falls down on the grass with a thud, I tug on her sleeve and pull her behind me as I continue to walk, gun in my hand and prepared.
From the corner of my eyes, I see Cove using his fists to beat two men to death at once. Is it practical? No, but Cove has never been the most practical person, and as long as he gets the job done, I won’t question his methods. We all have inner demons that crave satisfaction, and his is on the brutal side, where he needs to feel blood coat his hands in order to satisfy the blood thirst.
A man runs past me, seemingly running for his life. Aria follows suit, laughing deeply as she jumps on his back and slams him into the ground. These two will be the absolute death of me with their reckless, idiotic, moronic behavior.
Blair and I approach the back door, which has already been opened. Blood is on the tiles, screams coming from the inside. It’s pitch black, and if it weren’t for the bright light, I wouldn’t be able to see what’s happening on the inside.
I turn to Blair, whispering. “Stay here.”
“What? No,”
she protests, eyes narrowed. “I’m not staying put. If you wanted me to just come and watch, you shouldn’t have brought me at all.”
Her stubbornness is starting to irritate me, but instead of snapping, I take a deep breath and lower my voice.
“I’m not telling you to stay put indefinitely. I need to see what’s going on inside, and I can’t do that and watch over you.”
She scoffs. “Don’t treat me like a child. I wanted this, and I can do it. You don’t have to babysit me, Arlo.”
“I’m begging you, stay here and shoot if need be. I believe you can do that without a hitch. Just until I check the inside, and I’ll be right back for you.”
Reluctantly, she agrees, though she’s pouting. She looks at me once before stepping outside, next to the door and scanning the area, both the gun and knife tightly gripped in her hands, ready to be used. She murmurs faintly, and it brings a small smile to my face.
“Stay safe.”
I enter the manor, and I’m greeted by the awful stench of blood. Simmons’ men are still pouring in, the women trying to hide behind the furniture. My heart clenches because some of them are lying on the floor, unmoving, in the pool of their own blood.
“Go through the back door! Run through the forest; you’ll find help there!”
I yell over the shooting. Some nod, trying their best to evade bullets as they scurry outside. The enemies don’t even notice them escaping, trying their best to keep up with my mother.
There’s not a single part of her body that isn’t covered in blood. Her hair’s sticky, and her hands are plunging the knives deeply into her victims. She throws one behind her, without looking, and it flies right past me. When I turn my head over my shoulder, I see that it hits a man in his left eye, and I’m just reminded of how great she is.
“Arlo!”
She calls, and my eyes snap to hers. “Go to the basement, now!”
My brows narrow, but in this situation, I don’t get the chance to ask any questions. With a quick glance at Blair, who’s thankfully alright and can hold her own against these sleazebags, I quickly run toward the basement.
My footsteps are as silent as always, and I pick up the pace, pushing the door open. My eyes skim through the seemingly empty place. It’s the same size as the upper floors, with dirty, old mattresses scattered around.
My nose scrunches in disgust at the stale and rotten food in the corner of the room. Lord knows how long this crap has been here. It’s difficult to focus on anything other than the pure stench that makes nausea build in my throat, but I force myself to push it down.
There’s a single desk with some papers on top of it. I’m still puzzled as to why Mom sent me here, and without wasting a single moment more, I reach for the stack of papers, skimming through them.
They’re mainly irrelevant, from some newspaper articles and tax reports. The tax reports and the deed to the house are in such a fucking weird place. Why the fuck would anyone leave them in the basement, to rot away with the food?
Unless they wanted us to find them, in which case, all of this is a big, fat trap, and I’ve fallen for it.
They’re all addressed to the same person – Finley Wilson. There’s nothing on him here, not who he is, age, or description. Even the name itself doesn’t ring any bells, because we haven’t come across the man in all of the background checks and thorough stalking of these men. I fold the papers and tuck them in my pocket, mentally making a note to ask Lucas to look him up.
I’m about to leave, but a single thing causes me to halt.
It’s a passport. Well, not one, not two, but three passports. One of them is American, the other one is British, and the third one is Russian. Given how many fake IDs and passports I’ve had, I can tell these are fake, but they’re of brilliant quality, and I highly doubt the control would be able to tell they’re not real.
I open all three, laying them on the table. It’s fucking bizarre – none of them have a photograph on the inside, almost as if they didn’t want me to see how the person looks. They were all issued six months ago, and when my eyes fall on the name, I feel my world spinning.
Lump forms in my throat, and I’m unable to tear my gaze away from the passports. I blink, trying to realize whether or not my mind is playing tricks on me, if all of this is nothing but a hallucination.
Luna Collins.
My heart swells, and I don’t know if it’s relief or horror. If Luna is alive, that means that Adams’ has had her all this time, and the mere thought of what she must’ve gone through is enough to send my mind into overdrive.
If it’s one of their dirty tricks to throw me off guard, it’s working, because I can barely focus. With trembling hands, I take the passports, tuck them in my pockets, and pause for a moment, trying to swallow this information.
Then it clicks.
All of this was a fucking trap.
I’m snapped out of my thoughts when the small alert device buzzes in my pocket, creating a hole in my jacket from the intensity. Immediately, I cuss under my breath and run up the stairs, not bothering or caring if a bullet hits me.
Fuck.
My heart thumps against my ribcage furiously, sweat covers my forehead, and I’m barely functioning. I shoot as I run, taking out any obstacles that come my way. A single minute is all it took me to get from the basement to the door where I left Blair.
A single fucking minute was enough for them to get her.
My heart sinks to my feet, and I’m seeing red.
Blair’s not there.
“Blair!”
I yell out into the darkness, stepping outside. A creaking noise under my foot stops me, and I realize that I’d just broken the twin device that was with Blair. On the grass just outside the back door of the manor is the device, with the unused poison next to it, undamaged, and Blair’s satin ribbon.
But Blair’s nowhere in sight.