Page 170 of Pucking Obsessed

It was worth it.

Now, I watch again as I lower the lighter to the costume tail, lighting it all the way along its furry length.

Slowly, it begins to smolder and then catch light. I shuffle back on my knees, holding my arm over my mouth.

The smoke stinks, acrid and thick. I blink, as it stings my eyes.

Then I stand up, clenching my fists.

I’m going to smoke the bastard out.

Let Heine panic that the house is on fire.

Any moment now, he’ll open the door.

I’ll be ready.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Freedom Mansion, Captain’s Hall

Eden

Smoke billowsaround the small figure of an angel, when the basement door is wrenched open. He’s coughing and choking, holding his arm over his mouth.

It’s Heine.

I recognize him from the last game at the rink.

He looks like a fallen angel, descending into hell for the first time.

And I’m the devil who is going to tear off his wings.

I launch myself forward, grabbing Heine firmly by the wing and driving him back into the room behind him with a shove.

Heine lets out a high-pitched yell of alarm.

Taken by surprise, he doesn’t fight back.

He stumbles and would have fallen, but I grab him by the neck. He chokes and scrabbles at my hand. I ignore the sensation of his nails scratching at my skin.

I can’t feel anything.

Blood dribbles down my wrist.

My pulse is roaring in my ears. My whole world is focused on the man who I’m hunting.

The man who has hurt my family.

I barely register the room that I’m driving Heine across apart from that it truly looks like hell: chains, whips, and red light.

Is this D’Angelo’s playroom?

I slam Heine against a wooden structure that looks like a cross, and he hollers.

I tower over him, pinning him in place.

He kicks out at my ankles, bruising them, but it doesn’t make me let him go.

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