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But every life I’ve taken weighs on me, and I am not that man.
Not anymore.
I slam my elbow into the side of his head, and his eyes close, mouth falling slack. Searching his pockets, I withdraw a radio and some zip ties. Moving quickly, I zip tie the men’s wrists and ankles together before dragging them over toward the closet.
Right as I’m finishing, the door opens, and Presley strolls in. “Wow, lots of damage here.” He meets my gaze. “You good?”
“Yeah. You find her?”
He shakes his head. “I dealt with the guy who thought he was going to put a bullet in me, then came to find you. Your face looks like you had fun.”
“We need to get eyes on—”
A slight squeaking catches my attention, and I turn as a panel of the wall swings open and an aged woman comes into view. “Come on,” she urges.
“Who are you?”
“Do you want to exchange pleasantries or get to Dahlia?”
Dahlia. “You know where she is?”
“Of course. Let’s go. Now.”
Presley and I both rush forward, and the woman studies me. “I’m not sure you’re going to fit, but you can try.”
“I’ll make it work.” Tight spaces aren’t something I care much for, but I’d crawl over rusty metal to get to Dahlia. The woman goes first, then Presley follows before pulling out a pen light and illuminating the narrow hallway. I’m honestly not sure if navigating it in the dark would have been better at this point.
I have to turn partly to the side and duck down, but I manage to fit into the small space and close the panel behind us.
We move through the wall silently until we reach some narrow stairs at the end. My heart pounds as anticipation of reaching Dahlia grows stronger.
“Get ready, Demo,” I whisper to Garrison.
“Ready to go as soon as you give the word.”
Eyes. I just need eyes on Dahlia.
The woman pushes open a panel and moves out. Presley goes next. As soon as I step into the dimly lit basement, I see Dahlia standing there in front of me, her gorgeous mossy green eyes full of tears.
“I knew you were alive.” She starts to limp toward me, but I don’t let her finish. I close the distance between us in one long stride, then crush her against my chest. Tears stream down her cheeks as I pull away and cup her face. “Thank you for coming.”
“Always,” I whisper.
“But how are you moving? The pole—”
“Not the worst injury I’ve ever faced. Remind me to tell you about the time my old boss dropped a building on us.”
Her eyes widen.
“Right now, let’s get you out of here. Then I can take an entire week to recover.”
“More like a month,” she replies.
I laugh. “Blow it, Demo,” I say through the coms. “Let’s end this.”
Chapter 34
Dahlia
