Page 74 of Draven

I exhale slowly and examine the lock securing the property. Easy street. Within seconds, I have it picked. Opening the door, I let out a relieved sigh when it doesn’t squeak. Pete taps on his phone, likely giving an update to his team waiting nearby. I slide my gun out of its holster, although I’ll only use it if absolutely necessary. I don’t want to alert these bastards that we’re here, and they’re fucked. I hold up a finger, peer inside, scan around, then slide through the door.

Once again, I check Dayton’s app. It points to a rickety old staircase in the corner of the wide-open space that leads downward. With my senses on heightened alert, I cock my ears for any kind of sound. Beckoning to Pete and Ciaran behind me, I creep over the bare concrete, then I scan left and right, watching for a sign we’ve been spotted before we’re ready to take these fuckers down.

I glance at the screen again. There’s no dot.

There’s no fucking dot.

It’s gone. Vanished.

I shake my phone. What the fuck does that mean?

“What’s the hold up?” Ciaran whispers.

I show him my phone. “I lost her.” I shut down the app then reopen it in case it’s a blip. Still no red dot.

“Fuck,” I bite out, sliding my phone into my pocket and pointing to the stairs. “We go down.”

Treading carefully on each step, I eventually make my way into the basement. The lighting flickers overhead, illuminating moss-covered walls and uneven flooring. A scurrying sound to my left draws my attention—a thin tail disappearing into a hole in the wall.

“Watch where you’re going,” I whisper. “Fucking rats.”

Keeping our backs to the wall, we sneak along the hallway. We’ve almost reached the end when I pause. Someone is approaching, so I shoot a glance at Pete and Ciaran. They nod to confirm they’ve heard it, too. The footsteps get closer, and whoever is coming is whistling, oblivious to the three of us lying in wait.

He turns the corner, and I grab him, slam my hand over his mouth, and bring my other arm across his throat. His feet scramble for purchase, but ten seconds later, his body slumps. Pete points to an opening set back from the hallway, allowing me to drag the guy inside before Pete snaps on a pair of handcuffs. He won’t be out for long, but hopefully it’s enough time for us to find Louise and call in the cavalry.

Returning to the hallway, I use my memory to guide me. I’ll kill Dayton when I get a hold of him. He warned me there may be a glitch in the tattoo’s performance, but I hadn’t expected it to fail completely.

Finally, voices drift toward us, getting closer, and there’s at least three.

We all stop. Taking out three men at once will draw attention, but we’ve no choice. Tightening the grip on my gun, I hold my breath, but then the voices fade. I poke my head around the corner in time to see four men—not three—disappear through a doorway.

We wait a few seconds to make sure the men don’t return.

I’ve only taken four steps when a woman’s agonizing cry rips through the air.

Lola.

I sprint in the direction of the sound, my feet pounding the concrete. It doesn’t matter if they hear me now. I’ll kill anyone who gets in my way.

“Shit,” Pete expels.

“Showtime,” Ciaran says.

Racing toward the sound, I kick open the metal door. The scene before me colors my vision red. Louise is naked and handcuffed to a hook in the ceiling. Blood drips down her cheek, there’s a bruise blooming on her side, and her hair is damp and matted.

I instantly recognize Shala standing in front of Louise. He spins around and lunges at me, but I get off two bullets, one straight into his limp fucking dick, the second into his chest. He goes down, crumpling into a heap on the floor. Ciaran takes out the second man. A third makes a run for it, but Pete grabs him and snaps on a pair of handcuffs. The bastard got off lightly. I’d have put a bullet in his brain.

Louise lifts her head and locks her steely gaze on me. Relief swims in her irises, and she tries to smile, but it comes across as more of a grimace. Guilt races through my veins, but there’s plenty of time to beat myself up for not getting to her earlier. Right now, my woman needs me, and I’ll kill anyone who tries to stop me from getting her out of here.

“You took your time,” she mutters. “Get me down. Beresford. He was just here.”

“On it,” Pete says, making a move for the door.

“No!” Louise yells. “He’s mine. Get me the fuck down.”

“Search him for a key,” I bark at Ciaran, jerking my chin at Shala lying crumpled on his side with a dark stain coloring his groin and his blue shirt.

Ciaran searches Shala, but there’s nothing.

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