Page 38 of Midnight Rebel

As I struggle to breathe, I hear Frank’s heavy footsteps approaching.

“Nice try, Miss Clarke,” he pants, looming over me. “But I’m afraid your luck has run out.”

I look up, my vision blurring from the pain and lack of oxygen. Frank reaches down, his hands moving towards my throat.

Suddenly, a deep rumble shakes the tunnel. Dust and small debris rain down from the ceiling.

Frank freezes, his eyes wide with fear. “No,” he whispers. “Not now. Not when I’m so close.”

The rumbling intensifies. Cracks spider across the ceiling, growing larger by the second. I try to move, to crawl away, but my injured ankle refuses to cooperate.

Frank looks from me to the crumbling ceiling, indecision warring on his face. For a moment, I think he might help me. But then he turns and runs, disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel.

I’m alone, trapped, as the world around me begins to collapse. The last thing I see is a massive chunk of ceiling breaking free, plummeting toward me.

Then everything goes black.

Chapter 12

Colt

The roarof motorcycles cuts through the night as we tear down the winding road toward The Manor. My heart pounds in sync with the thrum of the engine beneath me, fear and adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Autumn’s missed call replays in my mind, her voice cut off mid-shout, the unmistakable sound of struggle before the line went dead.

“Faster,” I growl into the headset, even though the guys are already pushing their bikes to the limit.

The Manor looms ahead, its gothic silhouette a stark contrast against the star-studded sky.

We screech to a halt in the gravel driveway, the sudden silence almost deafening. I’m off my bike in an instant, the remaining members of the MC right behind me.

I bark orders, my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my insides. “Hawk, Ripper, take the east wing. Bones, Slash, you’re with me. The rest of you secure the perimeter. No one gets in or out.”

We move swiftly, years of working together making us a well-oiled machine. The Manor’s heavy oak door gives way under our combined force, the crash echoing through the empty halls.

“Autumn!” I call out, my voice bouncing off the walls.

Silence is the only response.

We sweep through the ground floor, finding nothing but emptiness and shadows. A growing sense of dread settles in my gut as we climb the stairs, checking room after room.

“Boss,” Slash’s voice crackles through the headset. “Office on the second floor. Looks like there was a struggle.”

I take the stairs two at a time, bursting into the office. Papers are strewn across the floor, a shattered vase lies in pieces by the door. And there, on the antique desk, is Autumn’s purse.

“Shit,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “Where the hell are you, Firefly?”

A chill runs down my spine as I remember Autumn’s cut-off words on the phone. “I’m in the tu?—”

“The tunnels,” I say, already moving. “They’re in the fucking tunnels.”

We descend into darkness, the beam of our flashlights cutting through the gloom. The air is thick with dust and the musty smell of age.

Our footsteps echo ominously, each sound amplified in the narrow passageway.

“Watch your step,” I warn. “These tunnels aren’t stable.”

We move cautiously, checking each branching path, each hidden alcove. The tunnels are a maze, and with each passing minute, my fear grows. What if we’re too late?

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