I pace and search the walls for an exit. There are no windows in this room, but I’m certain I can easily break out. The walls are old and rotted, and the door doesn’t fare much better. I try to keep track of time, but it’s useless. I count seconds in my head, but then I forget how many minutes I’ve already counted off, and I have no idea how long I was in here before I started counting. Yet I’m confident I’ve been here for at least five hours—mainly because I really have to use the bathroom. That must be true, or time is standing still.
A single pair of footsteps is the only thing I’ve heard outside the room lately. Tension racks my shoulders each time they sound, and I hold my breath, forcing away the fear that whoever it is will open my door. When the footsteps fade, I resume pacing until I’m practically dizzy.
I worry for Teagan. I worry for myself, and I worry about whether Burke knows we’re missing. I think about what could’ve been waiting for them at the prison this morning and question if he and Kai are okay.
The footsteps are on the move again, but this time, a man is talking as well. “I haven’t heard from the bitch since she left.”
I strain to hear his muffled voice.
“I don’t know why you haven’t heard from her, but I’m sure everything is fine.”
It doesn’t take me long to put two and two together, concluding that he’s on the phone.
“Everything is in place here. I’ll leave now.” It’s the last thing he says before his footsteps fade. A door slams, and then there is nothing but silence.
This is my chance, and I have to take it. I have no idea if there’s anyone else in the house or how long it’ll be before the man returns, but nothing good will come from my sitting around in this room. Eventually, someone will come for me, and I don’t want to wait around to figure out what that person has planned.
Without overthinking, I mentally and physically brace myself for what will come next. I take a few deep breaths, and then I sprint at the door on the other side of the room at full speed. The walls rattle as I make contact, and my shoulder stings from the impact.
I don’t bust my way through on the first try, but my efforts aren’t worthless. There is now a crack down the side closest to the lock. I wait to see if I can hear anyone coming to check out the noise, and then I return back to my attack on the door, repeatedly running my shoulder into it until the crack gets bigger. Then, since I don’t think my shoulder can take any more abuse, I use my foot. It only takes a few kicks before the door cracks enough for me to reach my hand through. Wood splinters into my wrist as I unlock and twist the knob to free myself.
I try to catch my breath as I step into the hallway and take in my surroundings. The space is empty with a few old lanterns lighting the inside. I move toward a window by the front door to check things out. It’s pitch-black, but I can at least tell that we are in the woods somewhere. I don’t see any movement, which is a plus. There are no cars outside, so hopefully, the man who I heard talking earlier has left and won’t be returning for a while.
Scrambling through the house with the feeling of my stomach in my throat, I search for Teagan. The first two rooms turn up a bunch of garbage and a mattress that has seen better days but not Teagan. I frantically push into another room, and a spiderweb hits me in the face. I brush the strands from my eyes and discover the moisture on my cheeks. I didn’t even realize I had been crying.
I’m mentally panicking over this situation. Is Teagan here? Is she alive? If she’s not, then will I have to face escaping this place by myself? Going out there alone is overwhelmingly scary. Will I have to tell Burke his sister is dead? My mind is running a mile a minute with every thought that can possibly pop up as I twist the knob on the last door in the hallway and find it locked.
“Teagan? Are you in there?”
My words are a whisper, but they make me flinch. They sound so loud in the suffocating space, and just to appease my own paranoia, I look over my shoulder. No one is behind me. I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the door, letting out a long, slow breath. If no one came after me when I knocked down the door, then no one is going to come running from hearing me whisper. I am still trying to convince my heart of what my brain knows when a soft moan sounds inside the room I’m locked out of. It’s so low that I almost miss it, but there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s Teagan.
Kick.
The door shakes.
Kick.
The barrier between my friend and me flies open.
What I find causes my breathing to stop. Teagan’s barely conscious. Her long, dark hair is a tangled mess, knotted with blood and debris. She’s propped up against the far wall with her wrists bound and secured above her head. Her head bobs up and down, from upright to falling forward. Her clothes are torn, and she has blood on more than a few areas of her body. One of her eyes is purple and swollen, and there are bruises on her neck, arms, and legs.
“Oh, Teagan.” The words come out of my mouth involuntarily and sound like a plea as I rush to her side.
Her head bobs again, and this time, she opens her eyes.
“Teagan,” I say again.
I have to fight back tears as relief fills her face.
I attempt to rip the cloth bindings apart, but the thick material doesn’t budge. Instead, I focus on freeing her binding from the wall. It’s less sturdy, so it seems like the better option. That way, at least she’s no longer a prisoner to this room.
Nails pin the cloth attached to her hands to the dilapidated wall she’s positioned against. Using the cloth as leverage, I pull at the first nail, trying to be careful not to hurt her more. I pull, yank, and tug until I’m blue in the face. Finally, her wrist is pulled free. I move to her other wrist and repeat the process. Once she’s free, her arms go slack, and Teagan falls forward. I clumsily catch her, but I’m holding up dead weight. I do my best to lower her to the floor and untie the knots, which are tighter now that I’ve spent five minutes yanking at them.
Tug.
Teagan looks up at me with tears brimming her eyes. The knot loosens slightly.
Yank.
She wheezes and moans as I try to free her, and I worry about her strength.
Tug.
“We need to get out of here.” Sooner rather than later.
Yank.
“I don’t know how long we have till someone comes back.”
Tug.
I finally free her wrists, and all I see are the deep purple rings of bruises marring her skin. The discoloration pops even through her heavily tattooed flesh.
“Teagan.”
I gently grab her face and encourage her to keep her attention on me. I need her to understand the plan as much as I need to look into her eyes to make sure she’s okay. The girl I grew up with and thought of like family sold me out so easily, and now, I need to save the girl I haven’t even known a fraction of the time. I have stronger loyalty and more admiration for her than I ever did for Braelyn. I’m about to tell Teagan we need to get out of here, but I’m stopped short. My whole body freezes.
Fuck.
“Teagan, stay right here. Don’t move, and don’t make a sound. I’ll be right back for you.”
She responds with a slight nod of her head, and I scramble to my feet. Before I even have a solid plan in place, I’m running from the room and back toward the door I busted through earlier. Pulling from the top, I yank until I have a large piece of the door in my hands. Time and neglect have warped the wood, making it easier for me to manipulate. It’s not a great choice for a weapon, but it will have to do. I’m out of time.
A car door slams, and I push down the panic as I move to the front of the house. Taking a hiding place to the side of the door, I wait for whoever is about to come. I wish over and over again in my head for only one person to walk through that door. If the guy has company, then I’m royally screwed. Taking a deep breath, I brace myself for whatever will come next, anticipating that I will need to fight like hell. My grip tenses until my knuckles t
urn white.
The door handle turns, and time slows to a crawl as the door opens toward me. I’m hidden behind it, and in turn, I am also blind to who is entering. As the door closes, sweat beads on my forehead, my breathing silent and shallow. Swiftly raising the homemade weapon over my head, I step forward while the unsuspecting man sets a red container down on the floor. As he rises, I make my move, and with everything I can muster, I bring the piece of wood down in one strong swing. He doesn’t go down on the first swing, and my panic starts to bubble. Still, I raise my arms again, and the man turns, a mix of surprise and rage in his eyes. I don’t stop to think, and I don’t give myself enough time to be scared. I bring the wood down again, hitting him repeatedly.
Once he’s prone and unmoving, I abandon the splintered piece of wood, grab his ankles, and start to drag him to one of the spare rooms. He’s heavy. Much heavier than I thought he would be, and with each slow pull, I fear his consciousness will return. The man doesn’t stir though, and a couple of minutes later, I abandon him in the empty room and lock him inside, which seems a little silly. If I can get out of one of these rooms, then that guy won’t have a bit of trouble kicking down the door. It’s the best I can do.
When I reach Teagan, she’s more aware than when I left her, and she is trying to stand. As soon as she’s upright, she loses her balance and has to lean against the wall to keep from falling.
“Paisley, you’re covered in blood.” A look of horror crosses her face as she inspects me.
“It’s okay; it’s not mine. We’ve got to go. Are you strong enough to move?”
“I’m strong enough for anything that means getting the hell out of here. Help me, and let’s go!”
I step toward Teagan, and she puts her arm around my shoulder. I grab on to her waist to help steady her, and we walk together, as fast as her battered body will allow. We pass a lantern, which I grab with my free hand. I get Teagan outside first. Darkness surrounds us, and there is nothing but trees as far as I can see. It takes us much longer than I would like to make it down the three porch steps, but once we are on semi-even ground, Teagan moves a bit easier.
Our only real option is to head to the tree line, so that’s where I lead her. I set her down in the shadows and try to back away, but she clings to my hand in fear.
“Please don’t leave me, Paisley.”
Her voice cracks, and my heart breaks.
“I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise. It’s okay. Stay here, and I’ll be right back. It’ll be okay. We’ll be fine.”
My words give her very little comfort. Teagan’s putting on a brave face, but I know she’s terrified. Her breathing is labored, and her arm is wrapped protectively around her ribs. If someone were to find her here alone, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself.
“Teagan, trust me. I will be right back.”
It takes her another moment before she releases my hand, and I hate it. I hate leaving her here, but I have something else I need to do. I take off, back to the house, leaving her in the dark. A few feet inside the front door is a red canister I hope is full.
It is.
I set down the lantern and get to work, dousing the house with the pungent-smelling substance. When I’m sure enough has been spread around to do the job, I turn, grab the lantern I left by the front door, and run back outside, dumping even more gas as I go. It isn’t until I reach the middle of the yard that I stop to catch my breath. I turn and watch the door, anxious about my plan. It’s then when I realize I’m not alone.
“Don’t do it, Paisley.”
I spin to find Burke standing behind me. He looks the same as the last time I saw him but somehow different. My brain tries to figure out why. Same dark hair, shaved closely to his head. His skin is still covered in sexy ink. His muscles flex and I catalogue just how ripped his hard body is. My eyes travel down his arms, notice what’s in his hand, and I grasp that the change within him is internal. Once again, he is aiming a weapon at me. He’s looking straight past me with body language colder than I’ve ever seen from him before. Is there truth to what Braelyn said earlier? Is Burke in on this? His gun is aimed at me, which doesn’t scream of a rescue mission.
This is the man who has held me after my nightmares. He has spent his every waking moment protecting me and watching over me. There is a connection between us. I know there is.
Somewhere along the way, I forgot that he was also the man who repeatedly called me a whore. He was the man who threw insults in my face every chance he had when we first met. I ignored the fact that he was a murderer.
A physical pain strikes me in my chest as I look into his eyes. I play back our time together in my head, analyzing every word and situation, looking for answers. Looking for hope.
The humorless joke is on me because nothing makes sense. The only thing that’s certain is, there’s an unconscious man on the floor inside that old farmhouse who I don’t want to wake. This place needs to burn to the ground with him inside for every cry and scream he yanked from Teagan’s mouth.
A loud exhaust disrupts our not-so-tender reunion. I recognize the sound and am fairly certain we’re about to be joined by Burke’s best friend, Kai. The man I’ve seen countless times be tender and loving with Teagan. The man who opened up to me at the kitchen table over coffee. The man with a pretty face and skin littered with scars. I’d like to say I was relieved to hear the sound, but I’m not.
His car slams to a halt, and without words or questions, he moves to stand beside his friend, draws his gun, and points it directly at my head.
The next few minutes happen in a blur. Red and blue lights fill my vision. The darkness of night is transformed as we’re surrounded by dozens of cops, all of whom are demanding that everyone lower their weapons.
I drop the lantern.
As Burke takes off running, I’m tackled to the ground, and flames roar to life. With his full body weight covering me, Kai pins me, so I’m unable to move. Confusion sets in. I’m straining my neck and watching in horror as Burke runs directly toward the flame, heading inside the house that, in a matter of minutes, will be completely enveloped by fire.
Burke
I enter the house, which is now engulfed in flames.
“Burke!”
It’s her. It’s Teagan.
My feet stop moving, and I tilt my head, listening.
What. The. Fuck?
Her voice came from behind me.
She’s not inside this burning house.
But, if she’s not inside, whose angry fists are pounding on a door toward the back of the house?
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Fire crackles around me, and I start to back up. I made a big mistake. The heat from the growing flames gets hotter. The cloud of smoke rising to the top thickens and rolls, searching for a way out. My lungs get tight from the fumes. My throat burns, and my eyes start to water as I struggle to breathe.
“Open this fucking door,” a gruff and enraged voice bellows out from the direction of the pounding, a voice that is definitely not my sister’s.
I take another step away, not giving a shit who is locked in this burning shack of a house. A beam falls from the ceiling and lands near my feet, throwing ash in my eyes. This old house is about to crumble. The foundation shakes, and a groan sounds. It’s barely audible over the crackle of fire eating wood, but I know that the whole place is about to come down.
I bail. I get the hell out of this burning building without a second thought. My feet move in sync with my racing pulse. I stumble forward, out of the doorway and off the porch, gulping in as much fresh air as I can manage. With my hands on my knees, I struggle to push air in and out at a regulated pace and raise my head to take in my surroundings.
The police have advanced forward but only slightly. Probably because Kai still has Paisley pinned to the ground. Some are standing behind their open cruiser doors. Others are in the middle of the lawn, weapons point
ed at Kai, as they shout for him to move away from the girl. Still, others are watching the flames and talking on their radios, presumably giving updates and asking for backup.
I search for Teagan with hopefulness. I’ve been worried about her since we figured out what was really going down while we were with Parker down at the jail. She called out to me. That tells me she’s at least still alive. Beyond the mayhem, smoke, and lifeless land around me, my eyes connect with hers. The face of the little girl I taught to ride a bike. The one I tucked into bed at night. The person I’ve spent my whole life trying to protect.
Teagan stumbles toward me, looking worse for the wear—bloody, beaten, and broken. My heart breaks at the sight of her.
The police shout once more for everyone to get down, but nothing can stop me from going to her. Ignoring their demands, I sprint toward Teagan and open my arms. Now that she’s in my grasp, I’m not sure I’ll be able to let go as her cries strain to pass through her vocal cords. Her terror tears me apart inside.
The house continues to burn behind us, and the cops advance. Currently, none of that matters because of two things; Teagan’s safe, and the look on Paisley’s face while she watches me reunite with my sister tells me Braelyn is a lying, conniving bitch.
Those ghosts that filled Paisley’s vision as she wavered with the decision to drop the lantern have somewhat dissipated. Clarity rings through as chaos ensues around us. And I catch Kai’s attention, mouthing a few simple words to him. He nods his understanding, whispers something to her, and then moves to let Paisley stand.
My telling Kai to let Paisley up is a bold move, considering I’ve been wrong countless times during the last few months, but nothing within me believes Paisley’s involved in this. Plus, what else are we going to do with a dozen cops all pointing guns at us? Nothing. We need to figure out what’s going on, and it’d be hard to do that if we were all dead.
I bend just enough so that I can whisper in Teagan’s ear, hoping that she’s calmed down enough to understand.
Vengeance in Bloom (The Love Unauthorized Series Book 2) Page 2