Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“That again? It was sex, Ciaran, not a fucking—” Her words faltered, and she shifted uneasily at whatever she saw in his eyes.
The tunnel was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle. Ciaran rubbed a hand over his face, an uncharacteristic sign of frustration. “Sometimes I think you shouldn’t know,” he admitted, his voice low, almost as if he were talking to himself. “But then I remember Puppet, and it’s really fucking hard knowing you don’t and realizing what will happen when you do.”
Lana’s expression morphed into one of confusion, her voice wavering with unspoken emotions. “You keep saying that, and I don’t understand.”
“That’s the problem.” He took her face in his hands. “But I love you regardless,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. He turned and started walking again as if nothing happened and he hadn’t just declared he loved her.
Mel and I exchanged uncertain glances. Hayven looked down, her usual lively demeanor muted, as if she wasn’t quite sure how to process what she had just witnessed. Dion shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the whole thing. Ky’s grip on my waist tightened, his face unreadable, but the intensity in his eyes told me he was deep in thought. Whatever was on his mind, he wasn’t ready to share it just yet.
We kept walking, the tension almost suffocating as we moved deeper into the tunnel. My thoughts were plagued with growing concern. What had happened to Lana? To me and Mel? The more I tried to piece together the fragments of what I knew, the stronger a dull ache in my head grew, as if my own mind was rebelling against my attempts to remember.
Suddenly, a hand gripped the back of my neck, applying just enough pressure to bring me back to the present. “Stop,” Ky’s voice was firm, cutting through the fog in my head. Somehow, he knew exactly what I was doing—pushing myself too hard, trying to dig up memories that refused to surface.
I took a shaky breath, feeling the ache subside slightly under his touch. Mel, walking just ahead, had completely closed herself off. She hadn’t said a word, her face a mask of indifference that made it clear she didn’t want to be engaged.
Dion’s voice broke the silence, drawing my attention away from my swirling thoughts. “You missed it, Grace—this tunnel is part of an old run-off system under the city. It should lead us to the building in front of the one we need to get to.”
I jumped on the distraction, eager to focus on something else. “The building no one seems to know what’s inside of it?”
“That would be the one,” Maverick answered, his voice tinged with relief at having something to say, something to fill the oppressive silence.
“So where are Brody and Carol?” I asked, trying to gather together everything I had missed.
“Waiting for us. They sent the signal that all was clear,” Lana replied, her voice steady, though I noticed a subtle tension still lingering beneath the surface.
“How did I miss all of this?” I asked, more to myself than anyone else.
Ky’s hand on my neck tightened slightly in a possessive, reassuring gesture. “You were busy.”
The memory of our night flickered in my mind, momentarily pushing away the anxiety that had been building. It wasn’t as if I’d forgotten; I felt the reminder of him inside me with each step, and the subtle ache in my throat from the way he’d held me lingered, grounding me in the present.
Ciaran suddenly pointed ahead to what looked like a dead end, but then I noticed the rounded hole—a makeshift passage, barely large enough to crawl through. The metal grate that once blocked it lay discarded to the side. "Get down and crawl," he instructed, already moving toward the hole.
We hesitated only for a moment before following his lead, one by one lowering ourselves to the ground and crawling through the narrow opening.
He pulled Lana through and then moved her out of the way. The stone scraped against my palms, and the dampness seeped into my clothes as I squeezed through, the tunnel closing in around me until I finally emerged on the other side. The air was different here—less rank, but still stale and heavy. The tunnel we found ourselves in was almost identical to the last, but it was darker, with no visible light sources. The silence was eerie, broken only by the sound of our breaths and the faint dripping of water echoing in the distance.
Ahead, there was a ladder leading up to another grate. Ciaran was already halfway up, moving with a practiced ease. He reached the top and knocked against the grate twice, a dull, metallic sound that reverberated through the tunnel. We waited, the silence stretching until the grate above suddenly opened, flooding the tunnel with light from above.