Page 82 of The Woman in the Warehouse

A few feet away, his man started crying even more loudly, still clutching his crotch, his body rocking back and forth.

“Well,” Jan said, reaching into his waistband, “that’s enough of that,” he said.

I knew it. Even before I saw the flash of metal.

Then there was another pop of a bullet leaving the chamber.

Followed by silence.

As his man fell dead.

“Much better,” Jan said, lowering his arm to his side.

“Martin, can you help our guest to a seat?” he asked. “We seem to need to have a little chat,” he added, his gaze sliding past me to the floor.

I knew what he was looking at. The same thing I’d been staring at when I’d last been in this basement.

The molar on the floor.

The man behind me had to tuck my gun into his waistband to be able to wrangle me closer to the beam where Matej had been chained.

While I twisted and turned. Then, finally, I rammed my head back into him. The scent of blood met my own nose as I broke his.

But it was right then that Jan called for the rest of his reinforcements. And between the three of them, they managed to get me against the beam, my arms wrenched far enough back for my shoulders to scream as the man behind the beam wrapped up and chained my wrists, making any escape impossible.

“Now,” Jan said, stepping over the bodies of one of his men to stand in front of me. “I think we need to have a little chat.”

“Gee, I suddenly have nothing to say,” I said, getting a snarl from the man whose nose I’d broken, his blood staining his white shirt.

Without warning, he’d cocked back and swung.

If it weren’t for my reflexes honed from many hours in the boxing ring, I was pretty sure my own nose would be broken.

Instead, the idiot collided with the beam, and the crunch of his knuckles was drowned out by his own cries of pain.

“Enough,” Jan snapped. Then, “Leave. Our guest and I need to have a conversation.”

I glared at Jan, even if I was secretly glad that the others were gone.

“You have been more trouble than you’re worth,” Jan said as soon as the door closed to the other side of the basement.

“I do aim to be a thorn in mediocre men’s asses, so mission accomplished,” I said, waiting to see what he would do.

He stepped closer as he laughed.

The man didn’t have a single tell.

I didn’t even know his intention before I felt the back of his hand slap across my face.

“Nice,” I said, ignoring the sting. “I would expect nothing else from a man who slaughtered his friends and tortured his brother, though.”

“Where it Matej?” he asked, not rising to the bait.

“That’s a great question,” I said. “But I’m not going to tell you the answer.”

He didn’t need to know that was because I didn’t know.

Jan’s patience was thin then.

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