Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
We walk silently, waiting for a sign that we’re seen, that someone’s nearby. I hear nothing but the distant dripping of water and wonder idly where it’s coming from. A clock chimes.
It smells like an old library down here, slightly musty but familiar. The basement’s finished, with a thin Berber carpet, and tidy, even the wooden beams on the low ceiling gleaming. It’s dark, though, with only a few small windows letting any light in.
We both freeze at the sound of voices and footsteps overhead.
Then a thin, reedy voice travels to us from above. “Then find them. I don’t want anyone coming here unannounced. You know that.” The voice quickly dissolves into a hacking cough that morphs to a coughing fit.
“I think we’ve found our man,” Cain whispers. I nod. They’ve taken our bait.
To the left is a staircase that leads upstairs, but to the right, there’s a door. Cain opens the door, and his eyebrows raise. If we weren’t avoiding being found, he’d probably whistle. I peek around him to see what he does, surprised to find what looks like a mini spa, complete with a jacuzzi and sauna and fluffy white towels. It smells vaguely of lemon and mint, and tiny white fairy lights dance around a table with a tea kettle and teacups. It’s a perfect paradise of relaxation, right here in the minister’s rambling home.
“Someone enjoys himself here,” I mutter to Cain.
He nods but doesn’t reply. His lips are set in a grim, thin line, his brows knitted together. I know before he tells me exactly what’s on his mind—this is the room he’ll use to get our answers.
“We draw them out,” he says in a whisper. “Get security locked down, then bring our little friend down here for some answers.”
“Perfect. I always wanted to do an interrogation wearing a fluffy white robe. If only there were a pair of slippers nearby…”
Cain gives me a lopsided smile, takes my hand, and gives me a firm squeeze.
“Make some noise, baby.”
“Shouldn’t we secure the security exits first?”
“Already done.”
I glance quickly at the door where we came in to see the deadbolt’s been thrown from the inside, then quickly look to the windows. They’re so tiny even I couldn’t climb through, and I’m used to getting through tight spaces. These windows are no bigger than a shoe box.
Cain’s made sure no one’s getting in from this entrance.
“We need to get the stairs situated. Can you do that, baby?” he whispers. I know why he wants me to handle that part of the job. I’m half his size, so it’s much easier for me to climb the stairs without making them creak like aching bones. I nod.
I tiptoe up the stairs as quietly as possible, and when I get to the top, I check all the locks. There’s one that bolts from this side, as well as another lock. We need to lure Descamps down here, then lock the door. Once we do, no one will get to us.
“Now, Violet,” Cain says in a whisper, his gun in hand and ready to shoot. “Go.”
I grab a metal can filled with screws from a nearby shelf, yank open the door, and whip it as hard as I can toward the stainless-steel dishwasher. It explodes on impact, making a deafening noise. In seconds, we can hear shouts and yells, but I’m already down the stairs behind the staircase with Cain when they finally come.
It takes him three shots of the gun to take them down. One on the left, bullet to the leg. One on the right, wound to the left shoulder. Last one he shoots is the third target, and he’s prepared. He ducks, then lunges for me, acting on instinct. The son of a bitch must know Cain would lose his shit over me being hurt before he would himself.
Doesn’t matter. I’m glad to have the chance to get at one of them. With a quick duck and jab, I nail him straight in the solar plexus. He doubles over, and I waste no time, my knife to his throat before he can even blink.
“Stay right fucking there and I might let you live when all this is over,” I whisper in his ear. He freezes, not even breathing. I have him on his knees while Cain secures the others, and in one minute flat, we’ve got all three tied to chairs, secured with duct tape. Not the most original tool, but damn does it get the job done.
Three. Only three. Cain nods to me, eyes on the stairs, then jerks his chin at the guy I secured. I hold my knife to his neck.
“Any more security on today?”
He shakes his head.
“He’s lying,” Cain says. I trust Cain implicitly. I don’t question or give it a second thought, but press my knife to the guy’s neck until he bleeds. He pants, sweat dripping off his forehead.