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Vicious Angel

Page 107

by Mina Moss

No, wait, there was something. I reached inside, frowning at the slip of paper. I was about to pick it up when a faint voice sounded from somewhere behind me.

“Help!”

I froze.

“Help! Help me! Please, somebody help me!”

It was a woman’s voice.

Oh, fuck, the woman!

Wiping the blood from my knuckles onto my shirt, I used the wall to help me stand. My legs were so shaky, my vision blurring, but I couldn’t pass out now. With a groan, I kept one hand on the wall and made my way down the hall toward the voice.

I couldn’t leave her down here. I had to at least get this woman out.

There was an open door on the left, and when I checked that room, it was empty. I turned toward the closed door, grabbed the knob, twisted, and pushed it open, stumbling into the room and falling to my knees. I hung my head low, trying to catch my breath as my eyes landed on a pair of dirty bare feet.

She was tied to a chair in the middle of the room, her arms duct taped behind her back. There was a single bulb on, the pull switch dangling below it. A blindfold was tied around her eyes, and when she heard me enter the room she visibly trembled.

“Who’s there?” Her voice quivered.

But that voice…why was it so familiar?

Fear wormed its way through me, slick and oozing.

I yanked at the blindfold until it fluttered to the floor by her feet.

Oh my fucking god.

“Oh my god,” the woman said.

Shock poured through me.

No.

No fucking way.

No, I was seeing things.

“You’re alive?”

Valentina Rossi’s brown eyes were luminous, glossy with tears. She looked utterly terrified, and her face was covered in dark gray bruises, one eye swollen shut.

“Help me,” she whimpered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Please help me.”

But then her eyebrows slowly tried to disappear into her hairline, her lips parted, and her good eye went wide. “Whitney,” she sobbed, her face crumpling as she cried. “What the fuck is going on?”

Jesus Christ.

A laugh mixed with a sob erupted from my throat. I honestly couldn’t believe what I was seeing. How the fuck…?

“The news,” I muttered, taking in the scene. It had to have been the news. She’d seen it and…what? She came after me on her own? That made no sense. Where the hell was her dad? If he wasn’t here, then he was on his way. If she’d been with him, he never would’ve let her get taken by Thorne.

Dread flooded my system and a loud rushing sound filled my ears. But instead of getting out of there, I looked around the room for something to cut the duct tape with. I couldn’t just leave her down here. When my gaze landed on the camera in the top right corner of the room, the little red light blinking, I cursed.

We needed to go. I had no idea if Court’s plan to lure Thorne away would work for long, and he could be back any fucking second. The longer we stayed here, the higher our chances of dying.

“Valentina, how long have you been down here? Do you know?” I scanned the room, and revulsion spilled through me at the array of medical tools laid out on a table. Bile burned up my throat, but I ignored it and snatched a scalpel from the tray.