“Yeah?”
“Cover your ears. Quick. Don’t need for you to get triggered.”
I obey quickly, and it’s like a fucking movie. They don’t crash into the fucking wall or the manor. No. They use the fucking gun and start shooting into the wall of the manor. My eyes go wide and I stay hidden in the trees when the guards come out screaming. It ain’t just the guards. It’s people that were in the house. Syndicate members we’ve been watching through the cameras. I shake my head. With the distraction, and my side already aching, I run to the tool shed on the grounds, open the door, and sneak inside.
As soon as I’m in, I have to let my eyes adjust to the total darkness. The ground beneath my feet isn’t made of wood, it’s made of concrete. I know for goddamn sure it’s not in any way, shape, or form used to store tools. The door behind me locks. Fuck. Okay.
I tap my toes around the ground, and the tip of my boot hits something, causing it to jingle. Trap door. Okay. I bend, look for whatever my toes hit, and find the latch. Opening it, a bright fucking light almost blinds me. The stairs leading down are so white they look fake, like I'll fall through them and end up in a different dimension. Shit. This place is already fucking with me. “Aleksi?”
“Yeah?”
“Found the entrance. It’s a trap door. I’m going in.”
“Be safe. We’ll be there soon.”
I nod even though he can’t see me and begin my descent into the white abyss waiting for me. I go, unafraid. Because my pink dagger is waiting for me. The demons on my back scream in excitement.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Maksim.
My head tilts back as much as it can between my shoulder blades. I groan in annoyance when I feel the fucking shackles around my wrists. My arms are back up in the fucking chains. Christ. Itry to open my eyes, but whatever they injected me with earlier after searching me and finding Parker’s switchblade is scarcely wearing off. Fuck. I barely have the strength to pick my head back up, but I’m making an effort. I won’t go back to my wife broken. I can’t. But it’s all fucking with me. More now than ever. Was it real? Did she really come see me?
My heavy eyes blink, trying to take in my fuzzy surroundings. Did I really kill someone? The collar around my neck weighs as much as a bag of bricks. My shoulder hurts but not like it was before. And I can still feel socks on my feet. Did I have socks before? Drool seeps out of my mouth and onto my chest. I wiggle my toes and feel the floor beneath my feet.
C’mon, Maksim. Wake the fuck up. You gotta wake up.
I try to move my legs, but they’re either lame or my brain isn’t sending the right signals. Or worse, I'm restrained again.
The tip of my heart fills once more with despair. Fucking hopelessness.
The growl in my chest leaves me as I try over and over to move my muscles, to find a type of balance, to get ready to run, to kick, to fucking jump. Anything. Everything. Because I can't give up.
Except it’s as silent as a mausoleum.
Blurred memories of Sabrina come to me, but it doesn’t feel like I’m getting out. It feels like goodbye.
“NO!” I roar and writhe again. My chains move with me, and they finally rattle. It was in my head. The silence was in my head. I blink awake again, throat dry. Itchy. Sweat coats me even though the room is freezing. Fuck. I have to get out of here. I try to get out of the restraints once again. I'm moving. I have to keep moving. I kick my legs. And they’re free. I take in deep, long breaths, letting my lungs fill as much as they can, exhaling as slowly as possible. Then I repeat.
The familiar buzz outside of the door causes me to open my eyes to blinding light. Kane comes in and my eyes narrow at his ugly fuckin’ mug. “What do you want?”
But it’s when I notice he looks pained, not smug. His eyes flick to the corner of the room and then back at me.
“Do it!” I hear from behind him. I almost choke at the sound of my wife’s voice.
“Alright!”
He’s shoved forward and he gets a set of keys out of his jacket pocket. Sabrina steps from behind his shadow, and I smile at my wife. “Duchessa…” but my eyes catch the hot pink,shimmeringthing in her hand. “Did you… paint your gun pink?”
“Yes, dear husband.” She waves it proudly, causing it to sparkle in the light. “And I purchased glitter spray. YouTube is amazing for finding DIY videos.” She smiles brightly up at me as Kane takes his time. Her eyes narrow. “I said hurry the fuck up, Kanedrew!”
But I see it before she does— “Sabrina!”
Kane yanks out his own gun, but my wife is a quick shot with great aim and shoots him in the hand and then both kneecaps before he goes down screaming. His gun falls, and she steps over quickly, kicking it away to the corner of the room. “If you weren’t such a fucking cockwomble, I wouldn't have had to do that. Seriously,one fucking job,Kane. You had one fucking job—unlock my husband.”
“You fucking bitch!”
“You fucking twat!” she retorts, walking over to me, but he grabs her ankle and tries to bring her down with his good hand. She steps on his hand and, with a high, shrill scream, begins to kick him. “That’s for raping me!”Kick“That’s for kissing me!”Kick“For touching me!”
