Page 122 of Sardonic Burn

I haven’t slept or even gone home. Lyla had to bring me spare clothes here, and no one has gotten any rest. Lucas and Mika are on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion, but neither of them want to give up.

Not yet.

Not until Noelle is safe. Not until I know that the man who is taunting me is tortured and then sent to eternal slumber, in pieces. The atmosphere is tense and thick, and I can barely function properly.

Ray doesn’t help, either.

He’s trying to look calm and collected but given the weeping of his wife, he’s holding on by a thread. And the thread is thinning with each passing minute. It’s nearly midnight, and there’s no time left.

Who knows what the bastard wants to do to Noelle? He’s not right in the head, so hurting her can’t be ruled out. He also wants her all to herself, so I’m assuming he’ll try to get them married as quickly as possible.

That little piece of information is something Niko revealed only this morning.

Four days ago, Dylan told Noelle that he pushed their wedding date forward. He didn’t ask for her permission; he just did it. She protested, but he didn’t listen.

I only wish she had told me.

Then this problem wouldn’t exist because I would’ve killed Dylan right then and there.

The motherfucker is too cocky for his own good. I tipped off the FBI, and they’re also on his tail. Mika hacked their systems, and everything they find out, we find out. It speeds up the process, yet it’s still not enough.

I’m losing my mind.

Day and night, I’m thinking about Noelle. This is all my fault. And now, because of a mistake that I made, she’s suffering. My gut feeling tells me that Dylan isn’t sane enough to keep her unharmed, and it makes my blood boil.

I broke too many things, punched too many walls, and nearly killed all of the people in the bunker. It’s unreal that the best hackers around aren’t able to find one ugly motherfucker. He’s careful not to show his face, and no one has seen him for the past four days.

The only time I did leave the bunker was to blow up a couple of places.

I left my face visible intentionally. He knows that I’m coming and that his death will be anything but quick. I’ve come up with nineteen different methods to torture him without killing him because I want to hear him scream and beg for his pathetic life.

“Hold on,” Mika says.

Lucas immediately straightens his back and pushes his chair until he’s on the other side of the room, right next to Mika. They’re staring at the screen but since it’s not security footage, I have no idea what the fuck they’re staring at.

“That’s good,” Lucas says. After ninety-six hours, Lucas finally has a little hope in his voice. “But it’s still a stretch.”

“It’s worth looking into.”

“Are the two of you going to start talking before I lose my fucking shit entirely?”

Mika turns to look at me. “One of his employees has been leaving work early and visiting the same area four times a day. But the CCTV in the area isn’t working, so I don’t know exactly where he’s going.”

“Show me.”

Mika pulls out a map. It’s a middle-class neighborhood. For the most part, it’s safe, with a few great restaurants around. However, every single house looks the same. The same layouts, colors—even the backyards are a copy of one another. It’s impossible to know which house he’s been visiting.

“I’ll see if I can track his car,” Lucas says. A few minutes pass, and I’m sweating.

I’ve never felt like this in my twenty-one years of life. The minutes seem like an eternity, and I’m starting to shake. The anger that I was suppressing is slowly resurfacing. As soon as Lucas turns around with a smile, I allow it to consume me.

“There are three possible houses. Take a few people and scout all three.”

“Mika,” I call out, and he turns to look at me. “Throw the feds off the trail. They’re no longer needed here.”

He nods, and I immediately call Lyla over. She starts preparing a team of people while handing me a couple of guns. Niko is quick to mimic my movements. Although we barely spoke this whole time, I can see the relief slowly washing over his face.

We leave the bunker, and I’m in my car before Lyla can take the wheel. She’s complaining that it’s not safe, but I barely hear her voice. My mind is on Noelle and Noelle only.

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