Page 63 of Lock Up the Darkness

“Yeah,” he murmured. “The image.”

I winced. “Not for much longer.”

“Keep that hope. You’re gonna need it.”

He turned and strode to his bike. Swinging his leg over it, he stilled on starting it and looked out at me. “I told you I believe you can survive this. But you won’t come out of it unscathed. It’ll drag you into the dark. It’s already in you to begin with. Jonah’s got a feel for all of that and he’s never wrong. He saw it in you. It wants out. And the thing with this place, with us, is it’ll feed off that, drag it out of you, and it won’t stop until it’s all that you are.”

I swallowed hard at his words, but stood my ground. Conviction rolled through me as I told him, “It’s worth it to save my dad.”

He smiled sadly. “Then he’s a lucky man, because that’s a steep price to pay. Trust me.” He gestured at the doors. “That main entrance is unlocked for you. Ash should be in the salon over in the south wing. If not, just text him.”

With that, he fired up the bike, that distinctive thunder rolling through me in the best way that it always did whenever I fired up my own.

And then I stepped back as he peeled out.

I stared after him for a moment, pushing down the entire haunting and cryptic conversation.

You are not a damsel in distress.

I took a final drag of my smoke, letting the affirmation roll over me.

And then I stubbed it out with my motorcycle boot and stared at the heavy oak entrance doors.

I stood on the precipice.

I knew that the moment I took that first step across the proverbial threshold, there was no going back.

I’d be officially solidifying my deal with devils.

I’d be all in.

There was no other choice if I wanted to free my dad from this living nightmare he’d been engulfed in for three long years.

If I wanted to pull him from the darkness, I had to step into it.

I had to start letting go of the other part of me that still existed in the light.

That would be nothing but weakness to exploit for the likes of Carson Monroe.

And even the guys themselves.

I drew in a centering breath, then walked to the doors and hauled one open.

Then I stepped across the threshold.

Into the den of beasts.

The soles of my heavy boots thudded on the fancy marble floors as I moved through the foyer and made a left down a corridor that I knew from my last time here led to the salon Killian had referenced.

The house was eerily quiet, my every step echoing around with some major amplification as a result. I could hear my own breathing, even though it was steady and calm, thanks to me taking the time to prepare myself before I’d come inside.

I was just nearing the end of the corridor, prepared to make a right, when an accompaniment of sounds joined the steady rhythm of my footsteps.

I slowed my pace and eased up in my step to muffle the harsh sound so I could make out what I’d just picked up on.

Thuds.

Some kind of whining sounds.

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