Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Rooster frowns, but I have no time for his issues with my plan when I envision the despicable things Domino could be doing to Angel.
I grab a large rock resting close by and smash it into the glass. My skin prickles where some shards cut in, but I don’t care and move the smooth stone along the circumference of the window, knocking out the remaining glass. Now I see the massive basement clearly, but there’s no trace of Angel or Domino. Still, I slide in, one arm stretched forward and dive into the cool, moldy air.
The old lightbulbs provide additional illumination but also create deep shadows resembling beasts about to creep out the moment I look away. My pulse thuds in my ears, a warning that I’ve not heard my boy’s voice since that initial scream. I swallow a curse when my shoulder hits the window frame. I twist, licking sweat off my upper lip when wood digs into the armpit on the other side of my body. This is where I’m the widest, so if my shoulders pass through, I’ll be in the clear, but while there must be a solution, it won’t come to me while my mind remains knotted with worry for Angel.
“Do you want me to push…?” Rooster whispers. I’m sweating, sick to my stomach with worry about Angel’s safety, and I can’t stop blaming myself. I should have caught up with Domino sooner, accosted him at the door, never let him get his hands on Angel in the first place. I should have ignored Angel’s pleading and killed the bastard yesterday.
But I can’t take back time, so I wiggle in the tiny window like a fat maggot.
I’ve got experience from the years I spent roaming the tunnels around my chamber in the caves, so I know when a crevice is too narrow, but this fucking window has no right to be, because I need to get in there.
A choked cry comes from an open doorway across from me, and the time for self-flagellation is over.
I know what to do.
I back out for half a second and stare into Rooster’s eyes. “Yes. Push. Push hard.”
I slide one arm in, then my head, and press my shoulder against the wall where it can’t fit. When Rooster pushes, I’m ready.
Wood digs into flesh, and I don’t try to prevent the inevitable pain clawing into me as my shoulder dislocates. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming, but the agony is worth it. I slide through the window so fast I have to make the last-minute decision to roll in order to avoid falling on my head. Everything hurts, but I bear it and shove at my arm, trying to force it back in place.
It’s agonizing, and I taste blood, but the third push does the trick.
“I’m right behind you,” Rooster whispers, but I can’t hear him clearly. It must be the blood buzzing in my head.
I turn to him and shake my head with a scowl. I will not give him a second more of my time.
The world trembles around me, but now that I’m inside, the sounds of a struggle come from the door ahead, and I follow them, right hand tight on the handle of my dagger. I have a gun, but using it could be too risky in close quarters with Angel here.
The darkness around me pulses with promises of violence as I enter the room and turn toward the next one, where I can spot artificial light. The reality around me feels fake, as if I’m a character in a computer game, but the shadow of a beast cast on the wall in front of me beckons me closer as the thirst for blood rises deep within me.
I don’t even try to hide and step inside, faced with the view of Domino’s naked back. He’s stretched above Angel’s prone form, one knee between his thighs, fingers digging into his cheeks as Angel whimpers.
My blood boils with the need to grab his head from behind and push my fingers into Domino’s eye sockets so he can never look at Angel again. But it won’t matter. He’s not leaving here alive.
I spot the gun holster in the pile of Domino’s clothes far away from the mattress on the floor. It’s all happening in slow motion, but remembering how my knife got stuck last time I fought a guy his size, I pull out the garotte instead, and go straight for his throat from behind.
Angel’s face flashes from beyond the bulk of Domino’s shoulders, and his eyes widen, but there will be time for comforting him. Right now it’s time to send Domino where he belongs—to hell. Wary of dragging my boy into the fight, I tighten the wire, then pull on it, dragging the monster away from Angel’s naked form.