Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Where are we going?” I ask finally once he releases my hair and drags me by the wrist instead.
“We’re going somewhere safe and quiet where I can finish what I started.” He glances back at me, face bathed in moonlight. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you wander off and get lost. You’re all mine now, Jeanie.”
Chapter 33
Gavino
Two guards lay dead on the floor at my feet. Both of them drew and shot first, and both of them are a bloody mess now. I nudge the one with my toe and sigh, glancing back at Romano. “What are the chances Malcolm will believe they shot first?”
“I’m sure there’s security footage.”
“Right, I bet that’ll matter.” I sigh and gesture for more of my men to head inside. “Round up the staff. I want them here. Search every room. I want her found.”
Three other security guys are on their knees, hands on their heads, weapons thrown to the side in a pile. The oldest of the prisoners, a bald man with a scar along his cheek, glares at me. “You realize this is a provocation?”
“I realize you’re down on your knees and I’ve got a gun.” I nudge the barrel against his chin and he flinches. “How many more men do you have?”
“None. We were short men tonight. Malcolm didn’t expect action.”
“Poor Malcolm. How many staff?”
“A dozen. Maybe more. I don’t know, they’re not my problem.”
I nod and pull Romano aside. “Benedict came straight here from the club,” I say quietly, glancing around the room. My men are swarming the house, already looking for clues of Jeanie’s imprisonment, ripping the place apart. The room slowly fills with terrified cooks, cleaners, and food runners. They keep staring at the dead bodies piled in the corner and one woman’s sobbing silently into her hands.
“You spooked him. You think he came here to check on the girl.”
I nod slowly, frowning at the staff. “I think one of them might know something.”
“They’re civilians. We can’t—” Romano doesn’t finish that thought. One of my guys, a young soldier named Aaron, runs over with wide eyes.
“Gavino, Romano, you guys gotta see this.” He turns and hurries off toward the back of the house.
“Keep the staff here,” I bark at several of my men standing guard at the front door. “Make sure nobody fucking moves.”
Aaron leads us along a side hallway past the kitchens, and through a door that leads down a flight of stairs. The basement is carpeted and finished with bare white walls and several more doors. One is open at the very end.
“I found it like this,” Aaron says, pointing.
There’s nothing inside. Only a mattress against the far wall. No windows, no bathroom, nothing.
“She was here,” I say quietly, staring at that mattress.
Romano walks into the room and looks around, frowning. “You don’t have a place like this for any other reason than keeping prisoners.”
“I checked the other rooms, they’re all like this one,” Aaron says, sounding spooked, and I can’t blame him.
I knew Malcolm was a psycho, but I didn’t think the man kept a weird murder dungeon in his damn basement. I’ve seen some shit in my time, but this is disturbing to say the least.
“Keep everyone away from here,” I tell Aaron. “Go back up the front guards and make sure the staff stays put. Nobody in and nobody out.”
“What are you thinking?” Romano asks as Aaron runs off.
I pace around the room and lean my foot against the mattress. I bend down onto my knees and place my hands on the fabric. “Warm,” I whisper and lean forward, sniffing softly.
I swear it’s her scent. It hits me like a hammer between the eyes.
“Boss,” Romano says.
I slowly get to my feet. “She was definitely here, but Benedict must’ve moved her when we showed up outside. They can’t be far.”
I stride out of the room and up the steps. Romano follows on my heels. I try not to think about why Malcolm would need an entire murder dungeon in the basement of his house and what he’s been using it for over the years and focus on what’s in front of me. Jeanie was here, I’m sure of it, but she’s gone now. Benedict’s car is still out front, so they couldn’t have gone far.
I stand at the threshold at the top of the steps and look around.
There, on the left, is a door that leads outside. I stride over to it and push it open.
The night’s quiet, only the chirp of insects and the slow rustle of wind. It’s cool, almost comfortable, with a full moon. There’s a pool and, beyond the edge of the lawn, the desert stretches into the far distance.
I walk out toward the pool. “If I were Benedict, where would I go?” Romano follows, staying close, but he doesn’t answer. My brain’s buzzing with possibilities as I try to imagine what Benedict must be thinking. Fear, yes, anger, yes, desperation, definitely. He’s on the run and he’s got Jeanie as his bargaining chip.