Page 96 of Holy Sinner

“Kit, you can’t-”

“We stay together.” I push myself away from the stairs and hold on to her. “I’ll be okay. I promise.” I’m practically shouting to be heard over the rain and for a second Alana doesn’t react and I think she hasn’t heard me but she nods.

I lean against her and we walk down the path. It’s not far to the building. At least, I don’t remember it being far. Alana and I stay pressed close together and I don’t feel as dizzy by the time the building comes into sight. We’re a few feet away when we both stop dead in our tracks.

The door is open.

We look at each other and I raise my eyebrows in question while Alana bites her lip. “Maybe it’s Jax and Scott?”

“Maybe.”

My hand goes to my pocket but there’s no knife there. After I came home I took them out and put them in the top drawer of the bedside table. I’m such an idiot. Why did I go anywhere without the knives?

Because I’m safe, I remind myself. Because there’s nothing going on out here or anyone trying to get me. Because there’s two bodyguards and a gated entrance. Because no one knows where I am.

Everything is fine.

Alana and I start walking again but I can feel she’s tense. I rub her arm as we walk. Everything is fine. Fine. One hundred fucking percent fine. We step into the doorway and instantly the thunderstorm fades away. It’s like someone switched the dial on the radio from twenty to five. I take in a deep breath and let it out as I shine my light inside. A kayak is hanging with a rowing machine to the left, across from that is a work table and a massive standing tool cabinet. There’s a few plastic tubs off to the side and in the far corner but I don’t see the generator. Not yet.

We walk into the building and Alana bumps into a box. “Fuck!” Her voice carries in the room and we both jump. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t realize I was yelling.”

I shove my rain jacket hood back. “Let’s spread out and look for the generator. It has to be here. It’s not like this place is that big.”

It’s a single storm building that’s all one room. It reminds me of a basement with the forgotten clutter in here and I move my flashlight over the knick knacks as I walk deeper into the room.

“What if it’s the fuse box? What if we don’t even need the generator?”

Shit. I hadn’t thought of that.

“Um, well if we turn the generator on the fuses should be fine, right? Grant and Rafe can look when they’re home.” I want to text them but I don’t. My hands are so soaked from the rain that I would just drop my phone. They’ll be home any minute, though, I know it.

“You take that side and I’ll take this one?” Alana asks when we come to a divide in the room. There’s an old set of skis leaning up against an antique dresser and a few boxes beside it. When I shine my light down the path, I see more boxes and luggage stacked. There’s nothing but stuff down here, all of it pushed together here and there to create a walkway through it all. How far does this go? There’s no way of telling, so any direction is as good as any. I’m about to open my mouth to suggest left but that’s when I see it.

A shoe.

A shoe with a foot still in it. I go still. “Alana.”

“What? What is it?”

I point down the path in front of us towards the shoe and my light shakes in my hands. “There’s someone laying down.” Alana doesn’t say anything, she just looks where I’m pointing and a second later she’s walking towards the person. “Alana, come back!” I grab at her but there’s no stopping her. The only choice I have is to follow her. I can’t let her see whatever the fuck it is alone.

“Alana, wait,” I whisper.

Of course, Alana doesn’t fucking wait. She keeps walking. I end up sprinting after her and reach her side just as she comes to a stop and stares down at the foot. The foot is attached to a leg and that to a body.

“Oh god. Oh my god.” Alana claps a hand over her mouth and drops her flashlight. It hits the floor hard and goes out but I keep mine on the body.

It’s a fucking body.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay,” I tell her but my hand shakes. I take a step towards the person on the floor. “Hello?” They’re face down and they’re wearing leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. It’s a woman, that’s all I can tell.

“Are you okay?” I take another step closer. I’m going to have to touch them to check and see if they’re all right. In a best case scenario, we can still get them help but it’s been nothing but the worst case scenario lately.

“Kit, don’t! Don’t touch them.”

“We have to check if they’re alive.”

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