Page 25 of Crossover

“I need information from you quickly, Ivy, so consider this a sample of what’s to come. But don’t worry. I’ll keep you alive until your mom shows.”

I swallowed bile down. “Just shoot me. Get it over with.”

But my words fell on deaf ears. It became painfully clear that nothing I said would change the inevitable outcome. Not only was I going to die, but I was going to endure unimaginable agony, tortured until I begged for the sweet release of death.

As the guy took a step closer, drawing the flame so close that its heat radiated off my forearm, despair pulled me under with one final thought.

I can’t believe this is how it’s going to end…

13

GRAYSON

Jace took position by the front door, but with Hunter busy detaining and protecting Ivy’s mom, it left the back door exposed until security arrived.

Gripping the gun at my side, I swept the exterior building quickly, looking for any sign of a sniper or another operative we might have overlooked before. Surely, they would have shot us when we grabbed Ivy’s mom, but precaution was the name of the game to stay alive long enough to help Ivy. Once again, no figures materialized. Not that I could see through the rain’s gray haze, at least.

Slowly, with stealth-like moves, I quietly cracked the door to a vestibule with another set of glass doors, where a man dressed in all black stood with his back to me.

He was the only one in my line of sight, but I couldn’t be sure if there were more men around the corner. There were certainly more men inside this building somewhere, and if I shot this guy, the sound would be like a fire alarm.

I clenched my teeth, praying that I could freaking pull this off before the man firedhisweapon.

I slipped inside, the musty smell of the abandoned building filling my nostrils as I carefully approached the second setof doors. The handle was cool against my palm, my throat becoming a damn desert as I pulled it open slowly, but when the hinge creaked softly, I froze.

The man shifted his weight, his rifle held loosely in his hands, like he wasn’t expecting any trouble. If they were, they would’ve armed the door with more men.

After waiting a few seconds, I cracked the door open another two inches, my focus locked on the man’s back. One turn of his head, and this would all be over. My pulse pounded through my veins, the blood roaring in my ears as I watched him and opened the door another two inches. The man turned his head slightly to the right, the light catching the stubble on his jaw.

Letting out a slow, silent breath, I steeled myself to make my final move in the next three seconds.

One.

I pulled the door open wider, the hinges whispering in protest.

Two.

I shifted my left shoulder between the door and the frame.

Three.

I lunged through the opening.

The guy turned his head, his attention suddenly locking on to me, shock registering on his face as I jumped him—wrapping my arms around his neck. And twisting it with a gratifying pop.

His limp body fell to the floor with a thud, the rifle clinking against the ground—echoing off the walls like the damn thing was conspiring to alert everyone else of my presence.

Down the hall, voices resonated as well, presumably guarding the back door. At least two operatives by the sounds of it, and with this guy being number three, that accounted for everyone who’d taken Ivy. Everyone except Daniel, of course. Still, I knew—call it a sixth sense of a trained killer—that there’d be more enemies lurking in the shadows.

The oxygen was thick with an ominous silence, broken only by the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

The biggest question was, where in this building were they hiding Ivy?

The hallway stretched before me, leading to a couple of interior doors—old offices, I suppose, for those who once ran this legitimate business. The peeling paint and scent of cigarette smoke leaking from the drywall spoke of years of neglect. Off to my right, a set of concrete stairs descended into darkness.

I wished I had more men with me to cover more ground. Every second was an eternity, and wasting precious time searching the wrong places could mean the difference between holding Ivy’s warmth in my arms or holding her cold, lifeless b?—

A bloodcurdling shriek pierced the air, slamming into me like a kick.

---