It’d taken her four years to gather and train them into a unit she could depend on. Starting over would be a pain in the ass.
If she lived long enough to start over.
Because even if she managed to escape this place, she’d failed. Failed in her mission to kill the hostage. Failed in her job to shine a light on the true nature of Black Knights Inc. Failed in the task Bishop had set before her.
Bishop.
From the beginning, she’d known he didn’t do forgiveness. Didn’t believe in second chances. Measured lack of success in ounces of blood and pieces of bone.
He was the true source of her fear and?—
Motorized movement cut into her thoughts. It was a mechanical growl. Like a garage door, but bigger. Thicker. Heavier.
She’d heard it once before, after they’d pulled her from the trunk and secured her to the chair. And now, just like then, she blindly turned toward the fresh air that poured across her face. Her nostrils flared at the smell of motor oil and molten metal.
The motorcycle shop?
Was the cave/bomb shelter/bunker attached to the old menthol cigarette factory?
Bishop hadn’t mentioned that either.
The sonofabitch. This was all his fault. If he’d told her?—
Footsteps echoed and interrupted her thoughts. They were heavy. Booted. Coming closer with each heartbeat.
One man? Two?
She caught a faint whiff of aftershave mixed with laundry detergent. Beneath all that was the familiar scent of gun cleaner.
The air around her shifted, grew warmer. He was close. They were close. Within arm’s length.
She braced for the slap. For the punch. For the bullet or the blade.
None came.
And then…there it was again. The grinding sound of metal on metal as the garage door that wasn’t a garage door swung shut, taking the fresh air with it and sealing her back inside the damp and the dark.
She could hear the breaths of those who’d joined her. The soft sound of air filling lungs. Then…something clicked. A flashlight?
Yeah. A flashlight.
Dull light filtered through the fabric of the blindfold. A second later, the cloth was pulled away, and she was left blinking against the darkness.
But it wasn’t a true black now. The pale glow of the handheld lamp carved out just enough contrast to paint shadows across the concrete walls and show her the long, dark tunnel that seemed to dip down into nothingness.
The road to hell, she couldn’t help thinking.
She’d always assumed it would be hot and sulfurous, not cold and fishy-smelling.
She tried to see the end of it, the orange glow of a sulfur fire. But the blackness was complete. And she was left to swing her attention to the man who stood directly before her.
He looked as solid as a mountain. His face was just as craggy.
Beside him towered another man. Younger. Prettier. But just as big. Just as dangerous-looking.
The eyes they fixed on her were unreadable. And the lack of emotion on their faces made her skin feel like it was crawling with bugs.
It occurred to her then…
