Chapter 58
Ryder
Placing my helmet on the grass, I stared at the white van parked beside the massive, derelict manor. From a distance, I would’ve assumed the place was abandoned.
The curb appeal was non-existent, all aggressive fencing and boarded-up windows.
The driveway looked like it had been through a war, crumbling in chunks and overgrown at the edges.
Honestly, if Hen hadn’t given me the exact satellite coordinates, I’d never have found this place buried out here in the woods.
Two men leaned against the van, smoking and muttering to each other in low voices. Neither looked armed, and neither bothered to scan their surroundings.
Either the Caretaker was stupid, or he was very, very confident.
Desperation clawed at me, begging me to storm the place, guns blazing, consequences be damned. But instinct held me in place. The reason I was such a good thief was because I had patience.
Rushing in got you killed.
Rushing in would get her killed.
So, like the good boy I was, I crouched in the bushes and waited. Watching to see if any more surprises crawled out of the woodwork. This needed to be clean. Silent. In and out, just like I’d done a hundred times before.
Only this time, I wasn’t the one who’d pay for it if I fucked up.
When I was confident there were only the two guards, I snuck around the side until I found a door. It was keycard access, which was pretty standard and becoming increasingly popular. It was a bit annoying because I preferred the classic pin lock; less flashy and more predictable.
Still, electronic didn’t mean impenetrable. People liked to think digital meant secure. But I was a man of many talents, and breaking into things just happened to be one of them.
Exhaling through my nose, I checked my watch while fighting the urge to just kick the door in. Because I was a professional. I wasn’t simply a meathead brute, and I had fucking patience.
Three minutes.
Popping the front panel loose with the edge of my knife, I glared at the mess of wires that greeted me. Old, mismatched, and definitely not installed by anyone with a license. Which wasn’t a surprise, because this place looked dodgy as fuck.
Pulling a small tool from my pocket, I got to work, separating the wiring with careful fingers. I twisted two together, producing a soft spark as the door clicked open. I waited a moment, straining my ears for any movement.
Two minutes.
I stepped inside, my eyes scanning the strange hallway that looked like it should be in some lavish mansion rather than whatever the fuck this building was.
One minute.
I turned left, keeping close to the wall as I counted down in my head. Dipping towards what looked to be a living room, I waited.
Three.
Two.
One.
The lights went out at the same time I slipped on my night vision goggles.
Hen, I owe you one, I thought, trusting my brother to figure it out. I waited for commotion, but again the place was eerily quiet.
Stepping out of the living room, I moved down the hallway on silent feet, opening the doors to peer inside. It was a normal manor, if you got past the gilded cage aesthetic. Every window was boarded shut, and with the power out the whole place was pitch black. Which was highly convenient for me.
Creeping further inside, I paused at a rush of cool air. The door to my right had edged open when everything went dark, the sound of whimpers and cries leaking through the gap. Easing it open further, I stepped inside.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, my hands clamping on the metal banister. A row of people cowered on the floor below, chained to a brick wall and forced to sit on concrete.
I took in the people huddled along the floor, my eyes straining as I scanned every face, desperate for Violet.
But she wasn’t here. A curse caught on my tongue, Greta lying flat on her front amongst them.
Even with the goggles I could see her naked skin was mottled with bruises, lying so still I wasn’t sure if she was even alive.
I hesitated, just for a second. But unclamping my hands from the banister, I stepped back. Right now, they weren’t my problem, but if Greta was here, Violet had to be in this place.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
I stilled, calming my breathing so I could concentrate on the sound.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
There it was, muffled screams and frantic curses, drawing me toward the far side of the place. A faint glow pierced the darkness in jittery bursts, flooding my goggles with blinding flashes of white. It flickered like candlelight, and I tore the goggles off, blinking hard as my eyes adjusted.
Then I pressed myself to the wall and crept toward the sound, keeping low, keeping silent.
“Let me out!” a familiar voice shrieked.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Each strike pounded through the hallway, sharp and frantic, making my pulse spike.
“Violet?” I whispered, pressing my hand against the wood.
There was a beat of silence from behind the door, then a strained and disbelieving, “Ryder?”
I moved to the handle immediately, fingers finding the lock. The only light came from the flicker of a fireplace somewhere down the hall, throwing shaky glimmerings across my hands.
But I didn’t need to see to pick a lock. It took me under thirty seconds to align the pins, and I pressed down on the handle. Violet flung herself at me, her arms encircling my neck.
For a heartbeat, panic froze me. My body went rigid, every instinct screaming to flinch, to shove away and break contact. My inhale caught, lungs tightening painfully. Then her scent hit me, and something in me overrode the panic.
“You came for me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
I wrapped my arms around her and crushed her to my chest, burying my nose in her hair as she cried. “I told you, I can’t let you go.”
She pulled back, and it took everything in me not to drag her into my arms again. “M… mum?” she all but sobbed. “Did you…?”
I stoked her cheek, wiping at her tears. “I’m sorry.”
Her lips parted, and it took a moment for her to form the question. “She’s…?”
“Hey, look at me. Concentrate on me, okay?” I said gently, pinching her chin so her gaze locked onto mine. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good.”
Her face crumbled, but I tightened my grip, grounding her.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I whispered. “I promise. Now, you and me, we’re going to walk out of here.”
“But… mum?”
“I’ll come back for her. I swear it, Violet. But right now, you need to trust me.”
She searched my eyes, and after a moment, she nodded. “I trust you.”
Grabbing her hand, I pulled her towards the door, only for a fist to come out of nowhere, smashing into my jaw and throwing me sideways into the doorframe.
“Ryder!” Violet cried, and her desperate voice urged me to move.
Jürgen went to hit me again, but I jerked back just in time. I caught his arm mid-swing, twisting hard, using his own momentum to haul him forward.
He stumbled into the room with a grunt, and I slammed my shoulder into his ribs, driving him back into the wall with a dull thud. He snarled, recovering quickly, and elbowed me in the side, sharp and brutal.
Pain lanced through my ribs, and fuck me, this guy could hit hard despite his size. I grabbed him, locking my arm around his throat until I stole his oxygen.
A familiar click, and I turn to find a man holding a gun to Violet’s head, his hand gripping her upper arm. Shit.
“Stop,” he said calmly, and I immediately released my grip.
Jürgen hit me hard in the stomach, forcing me to my knees as all the air exhaled out of my lungs.
“Let her… go,” I forced out, the words coming out more like a wheeze than a threat.
“Was willst du mit ihm machen?” Jürgen grunted, kneeing me in the face.
I collapsed forward, the metallic taste of blood flooding my mouth as pain exploded across my nose.
The man wearing the tuxedo hummed in thought, the barrel of his gun pressed so tightly to Violet’s forehead it left an indent. “Bring him with us.”