Some rooms are empty; some have a few of Woods’ men that either Blair or I take down. My breathing gets heavy, but the adrenaline that rushes through my veins is much welcome. It’s been a fucking while since I did something like this, and now that I have the chance to kill these motherfuckers, excitement blooms in my chest.
The last room on the upper floor is also empty, and I start getting irritated. It’s an office of sorts, though definitely half-empty. If there were any sort of important documents here, Woods destroyed them in time.
Blair closes the door behind her, making sure to lock it. Her eyes glide through the room, her brows narrowing. She’s silent for a while, deeply concentrating, her hand tightening around the gun.
“What is it, butterfly?”
“Can you ask someone to check the basement?”
I nod, taking my phone out. The only person who would drop everything to chase more adrenaline and quite possibly get the opportunity to take out Woods is Kaya. I shoot her a quick text, watching as the small bubble appears on the bottom part of thescreen.
“No,” I sigh. “He’s not in the basement.”
“He isn’t in any of the rooms, either. Raven’s on the roof, so he would’ve told us if he left the manor. Meaning, he’s still inside.”
“A hidden room,” it clicks in my head, to which Blair nods. “But this house is fucking massive. Where do we even begin to look?”
“His men are dying one by one,” Blair shrugs. “We haven’t lost a single one. He’ll be forced to come out of hiding soon.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have the patience nor the time to wait on him. Let’s start looking.”
She sighs but doesn’t protest. Her shoulders are slightly tense when she starts rummaging through the drawers of his desk. It’s all empty, the books on the shelves old, worn out, and definitely well-read. However, there’s nothing that could be used as evidence of his shady business or anything about where he keeps all the money. Well, no matter, I’ll find it using different means.
Blair’s fingers gently run all over the spines of the books, her eyes narrowing slightly. With ease, she pulls one, and the shelf on the far left side slightly gets pushed forward.
“You’re a genius.”
“Definitely not,” she chuckles, approaching the shelf. “Just thought I’d give it a try. Very cliché and predictable, if you ask me.”
She’s about to reach for the shelf and pull it when I grab her wrist. I give her a pointed look, and with a sigh, she steps aside, letting me take the lead and pull the shelf. It’s heavy, but not nearly as heavy as I thought it’d be.
It reveals a small door with a big, metal padlock. Woods clearly thought at least one of his men would remain alive to let him out.
“Should we just… leave him to die inside?”
“No,” Blair chews on the inside of her cheek. “He probably has some sort of weapon; the bastard would get out. Let’s just get it over with. I’m getting tired.”
I chuckle, kissing her forehead, then stepping back. I aim for the padlock, then pull the trigger twice. The padlock snaps in half, dropping to the floor. Blair’s a few feet behind me, and when she gives me the nod of approval, I shove the door with my foot.
“Stay here.”
“As if,” she scoffs, then prepares her gun.
I roll my eyes at her cheekiness before bending down and stepping inside. I don’t even get the chance to take four steps inside before a figure starts running toward me from the dark corner.
Blair turns on the light behind me, just as I duck down. Woods stumbles forward, giving me just enough time to get a hold of his hands. I push him to the floor, and when I see the fear on his face, the Ghost in me wakes up.
It’s rare for me to torture men like this. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve tortured a man, then killed him. However, I can’t control myself when I’m finally face-to-face with one of Paul’s most trusted friends.
His gun slips from his hands, and panic flashes behind his eyes. A dark smirk tugs on my lips, and I hit him square in the jaw. He groans in pain, trying to push me off him, but it’s futile. I’m taller and fucking stronger than this little bitch.
“This has been long overdue, don’t you think?”
Fear grows on his face, losing all color. He gulps, his hands trembling when he reaches up to touch his jaw. It’s not dislocated just yet, but a bruise started forming the moment my knuckles touched his filthy skin.
“Wait—”
“Oh, I’m not waiting a fucking thing,” I hiss in his face, grabbing him by the collar. I lift him off the floor, slamming him against the floor. He coughs, his eyes widening in shock — or pain? I can’t tell, and I don’t care to find out.
