Chapter 13
thirteen
-Serena-
I look around, and there's no sign of any of his men. I'm the only one who knows he’s in danger. And no matter whose to blame for the hitman I have on my ass, Set’s risking his life to protect mine.
I grab my phone and try to call him, but it goes straight to voicemail.
"Damn… Fuck… Shit…" I curse, yanking off my seatbelt and grabbing the gun as I swing the car door open. Without a second thought, I follow the same path Set took, since it’s the most tucked away from the streetlights.
I pay extra attention as I advance to the building, watching every shadow for movement.
No one seems to be following me, and that's because I triple-check behind me every five seconds. My tremble has a tremble of its own. I'm not usually brave unless I’m doing something incredibly stupid. And right now, this might hold the top spot. Besides, I know whether I live or not, Set’s going to be on my ass for this.
The abandoned building squeaks like it's about to collapse at any time, same does the wooden floor as I enter it. The place’s in complete ruin—something straight out of a horror movie. All I'm praying is that Freddy Krueger’s not home.
Lights flicker on and off somewhere in the distance, and I'm not sure I’ll make it across the hall without fainting.
But Set needs me. I need to hurry to get to him, but I also need to be careful enough not to draw any attention.
In case they already have Set by now, I need to save him, even if I have absolutely no idea how to do that.
Still, I’m a former—possibly even current—cat burglar, so stillness is in my blood.
Paying attention to details, I slip through the shadows, investigating the place, trying to figure out where Set went.
I don't think he ran into anyone since there's a deadly silence hanging in the air. So, I’ll have to check the rooms one by one.
I push the first wooden door. It squeaks like the house is warning me not to take a single step further, and my heart stops.
I glance around, praying no one heard that.
The room’s empty, just dirty, peeling wallpaper and a few dusty gas cans on the floor.
I move onto the second room. Same damn squeak, but I do my best to avoid it.
This one’s not so empty. A rusted metal table lines the wall, cluttered with tools—some medical, some for construction.
I can barely hold back a gasp as I realize some of the tools are stained with blood.
These aren’t tools—they’re torture instruments.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
My breath picks up as I move on further toward what looks like a larger room. The door’s slightly ajar—at least it doesn’t squeak as I push it. But there's nothing to investigate there. The room’s completely empty, except for a single couch slumped in the corner.
I turn to leave when I spot faint rays of light leaking through the wall.
A double wall.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I step toward it. One push, and the wall gives way to a hidden room.
It’s so massive, it could be a warehouse. I remember seeing some facility buildings behind the main structure, so this must lead to them. I walk slowly, straining to listen carefully.
No sound, yet something catches my attention. Set's cologne—faint, but unmistakable to me.
I keep going, deep inside the room, following the scent. It's so dark I can barely see, but I have to find Set. I need to know he's not in danger because of me.
Then, I think I hear something moving behind some shelves. My weapon’s cocked, ready to fire. And I swear I’ve never been so on the edge in my life.
The stress makes me clumsy, and I brush one of the jars sitting on the shelf.
It almost crashes, but I catch it just in time and ease it back into place slowly, watching carefully so I won't make any noise. I arrange it exactly as it was, but the second I lift my eyes to step away. I realize what’s in the jar.
Is that… a brain?
I'm not sure if I should scream or throw up first, but before I get to do either, a hand clamps over my mouth firmly.
I struggle against whoever grabbed me, but he’s way stronger than I am. And just before I have a panic attack I realize the arms holding me are familiar, and a voice I’m surprised to say I'm happy to hear, rings in my ears. "What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay in the fucking car."
That’s his thanks for coming to his rescue?
"There was someone... someone was following you," I whisper, not sure what to tell him first—the guy tailing him, or the fucking brain in the jar.
"I know. I told you I had this covered," he says, pressing his hand over my mouth again and pointing to a corner of the room where a body’s sprawled on the floor.
Smart move keeping me muted because I definitely would’ve screamed. I only manage to mumble against his fingers. "The jar. A brain."
"Shush," he whispers in my ear, pointing to the other shelves, lined with what has to be hundreds of jars, each holding something worse than the last.
I don't feel like screaming anymore. I feel like I’m gonna have a damn heart attack.
"He either traffics the organs of the people he kills… or keeps them as trophies. Bad news either way." Set whispers so quietly in my ear that I barely catch it—that's probably because I don't even want to hear it.
What kind of mess did I get myself into?
"This is the guy who wants to kill me?" I whimper, terrified I'll end up in one of those jars.
"And you just came to volunteer," he snarls, warning me to keep my mouth shut as he pulls his hand away.
I don't respond, but seriously, a little gratitude would be in order. I came here to help him. Like it or not, that makes me his partner now.
He gestures for me to follow him as he moves between the shelves. I can only go on covering my mouth with my own hand. I want to scream with every new step I take. I said that display was straight out of a horror movie. Scratch that, this place is a horror movie.
I've never seen anything this fucked up in my entire life.
Set walks slowly, glancing back at every step to check if I’m okay as we're heading toward a corner that looks faintly lit.
I think there's a computer there, but I can tell if anyone’s sitting in the chair in front of it or not.
I try to focus, but the image blurs, probably because my mind does the same.
I only get to take one step before someone lunges from between the shelves, snatching Set from in front of me and throwing him somewhere in the room while all I can do is just scream.