Page 147 of Dagger

Empty.

I swiftly moved to the next door and peeked inside, but there was nobody there, so I moved on to the next room. My gut twisted when I opened the door and saw a girl inside, her hands and feet bound to the chair with what appeared to be zip ties. She looked to be young—in her teens—and her head had lolled forward.

Moving inside the room, I clicked the door closed behind me and went straight to the girl, crouching down and cutting through her restraints with my blade. Gently, I pulled her head up, my gut churning when I saw a painful-looking gash on her lip and a black eye.

My hand went to my cell, and I pulled it out of my pocket, clicking on Atlas’s number. It rang three times before the call connected, and Atlas barked, “Yo!”

“Did you get the girl?” I asked.

“Yip. Abe got her out.”

“Found another one unconscious and tied to a chair,” I muttered. “There’re more women around. We’re gonna need transport for ‘em.”

“We found one,” he confirmed. “Got her when we cleared one’a the outbuildings. They’d beaten the poor bitch black and blue. Found the fuckers who did it too; pleased to report the world has five less abusers.”

“Make that seven,” I informed him.

Atlas barked a laugh and crowed, “Best day ever.”

My ears pricked as men’s voices filtered into the room from the hallway. “Gotta go,” I whispered before ending the call and slipping my cell phone back into my pocket. I pulled out my other knife, and my head snapped up as the voices got louder.

I stood, slid into position behind the door, held my breath, and waited.

“Where’s Tiny?” I heard one of them ask.

“Lazy fuck’s still catching z’s,” another one replied.

“Better give him a wake-up call soon. We need to get ready to roll in case Bear calls.” The door creaked open, and my fingers tightened around the handles of both blades.

Two Sinners walked inside the room. I could only see their backs, but one was short and stocky, the other not much taller, except he was a skinny fuck.

I held my breath, waiting until they were both clear of the door, stepped forward, and sank a blade into the back of each of their skulls. I hit the skinny one slightly off target, and blood squirted out the back of his head, hitting my shirt as they both sank to the floor.

“Nine down…” I murmured to myself, heading back toward the door.

Sliding through the door, I looked right and left, making sure I was clear, before checking the next room and then next. I slit the throat of a sleeping, skinny, strung-out Sinner who looked to be at death’s door, but every other room on the upper floor was clear.

Finally, I headed back toward the stairs, intending to get back down to Atlas and the boys, when I heard the shouts.

“They’re out front!” a man bellowed.

“Get the weapons,” another one roared. “Those cunts are dead!”

I slipped my second knife back inside its sheath and pulled out my gun. Then, tiptoeing to the stairs, I pointed it down over the railing, waiting for my shot.

Within seconds, a massive, long-haired biker came into view.

I recognized him from the shoot-out at my club, the day before me and my mate were bound together.

“Call Bear,” he yelled. “Tell him we need backup—”

I squeezed the trigger until an almighty bang shook the staircase as my weapon discharged. The back of the Sinner’s head exploded, and he crumpled to the tiled floor. Another one ran to help the dead man, and I squeezed another round off, shooting him in the heart.

His chest rattled loudly, and he dropped to the floor.

The sound of gunfire from outside filled my ears, and I felt the inside of my chest swell until it was almost buoyant. I tipped my head back, looked to the ceiling, and allowed my monster torear up through my chest, completely taking me over. My mind filled with images of the hell I was about to rain down on those sick perverts.

Every muscle, every bone, every drop of blood hummed with the need for the kill. My mind focused solely on the men downstairs who threatened my club and my woman, and something burst inside.

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