Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 42863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
She sobbed then, relief washing over her features. I quickly began undoing the restraints binding her to the bed, and then I directed her to hide beneath the bed frame until I came back for her.
I had a dozen more rooms in this hall… at least a dozen more victims to free.
Fuck.
Were the other halls as filled with them as ours was? My stomach rolled at the thought.
Joey and I quickly began to work our way down the hall. Occasionally, a guard would pop out of nowhere—they were like fucking roaches at this point—and Joey would quickly put a bullet in their skull. I gave each victim the same order—hide under the bed. There were women, children, men; these assholes hadn’t been picky in their selections.
When I got to the last room, a guy was working to undo a girl’s restraints. She was mostly unconscious, more than likely heavily sedated so she couldn’t fight back.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” he whispered to her.
I pressed the barrel of my pistol to the back of his head, and he froze, his hands stilling on her binds. The girl moaned, her eyelids fluttering before they rolled back in her head and she succumbed to whatever drug had been injected into her system. All the others had been awake—lucid. Able to follow directions.
I’d been hoping all of them would be like that. But luck wasn’t on my side. She was out cold.
“On your fucking feet,” I growled at the young man. The guy shakily climbed to his feet, his knees wobbling beneath him, threatening to send him crashing back down to the floor. “Turn,” I commanded.
I wasn’t surprised by how young he looked when he finally turned to face me, the barrel of my pistol resting between his eyes. Gray eyes met mine, full of fear and vulnerability, but I didn’t let it sway me.
“Move away from the girl.”
His lips trembled. “I was just trying to save her—”
“Did I ask a fucking question?” I demanded. I pressed the steel harder into his skull, making him flinch. Tears welled in his eyes. I steeled myself against them. He was wearing the same uniform as the guards; there was no mistaking him for anything than what he was, no matter what he had to say. “I said to move the fuck away from the girl.”
Shakily, he finally did as I said. Reaching into my back pocket with one hand, I glanced at Joey out of the corner of my eye. “All clear?” I asked.
“All clear,” he confirmed.
“Tie this kid up,” I commanded. The boy began crying earnestly now, but I didn’t give a fuck about his tears. The girl on the bed was drugged, he had no bruises on his skin, and he looked too well taken care of. No doubt, he was part of this whole bullshit organization, and I wanted to know where the hell he’d planned to take the girl if he got her out of here. “He’s coming with us. I want fucking answers.”
Joey nodded once and took over the handling of the boy. Turning my back on them, I headed over to the unconscious girl and began undoing her restraints before gently tossing her over my shoulder and leaving the room, poking my head into each room on my way up the hall so every man, woman, and child could follow me out of the building to the vans Alejandro had waiting to transport them to safety.
But this girl and that boy… they were coming with us.
3
Beck
I didn’t struggle one bit as I was led out of that godforsaken building and into the back of a van, my hands bound behind me. And as soon as I was sitting on the floor in the back of the van, my ankles were zip-tied too by the same man who’d done my wrists. He was covered in tattoos, and the cold look in his eyes made me shrink back from him.
He was clearly dangerous.
So, I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t plead. And really, what did I have to plead for? Clarke was safe now, and that was all I gave a fuck about. I’d managed to get in as a guard, knowing I could be killed at any moment. All I’d been able to focus on for months was rescuing Clarke and getting her the fuck out of there.
I’d known my dad was shady. I’d known her mom was somehow involved. But their lack of concern over Clarke being kidnapped, taken right out of her bed in their home, made my blood chill in my veins every time I thought about it. They weren’t even concerned about the lack of security in their home—a home that had things in it worth millions of dollars.
It was worrying. Weird. Suspicious.
Something in my gut told me I shouldn’t have left home and gone to college. I should have stayed with her—protected her. Kept an eye on her. Or at least taken her with me. But Clarke, always so damn selfless, had pushed me to go to college so I could pursue my dreams of one day playing hockey professionally.