Page 55 of Bulletproof Love

We check the surroundings once the van is safely down the street. With all the commotion, we could have woken neighbors or busybody late night pedestrians. I point to the hill across the street. “Should we check up there?”

Damon thinks for a moment. “Eh, there’s nothing up there but dead trees and snow.”

I shrug. It would only take a few extra minutes to jog up there and check it out, but that’s usually Damon’s thing. Plus, like Leon said, this needs to be fast. “We should finish this.”

I slide my gloves on, not that it’ll matter if we leave prints once we’re done. This place is a dump. I wouldn’t want my worst enemy to live here. Okay, maybe that’s not true… but plain and simple, it’s fucking nasty. Crumbling walls stained with ash and tobacco, the stench of piss in the air, rotting food and beer cans strewn around the filthy floor.

I try not to imagine what’s crunching under my boots with each step. “And you thought I was a slob?”

Damon shakes his head. “There’s slob and then there’sthis.I wish we had fucking hazmat suits.”

We step over a body—the big guy I shot earlier. I kick him with the toe of my boot. Damon notices and flashes me a confused look. “What? I want to make sure the fucker’s dead.”

“I think the bullet through his skull is telling enough.”

He would think, but I’ve heard some wild stories about people surviving gunshots to the head. “You never know.”

Something moves in my peripheral and I twist, aiming my gun. “Is that a fucking rat?”

“Probably. I’m sure that’s not the worst of what’s living in this place.” He moves toward the stairwell, stepping over an ancient-looking pizza box. “Remind me to have Leon or Falin find out who holds the deed to this place.”

“Yeah, okay.” I’ll try to remember. Kinda difficult when there’s one main focus in my brain right now.

“I’m going to check the rest of the house, make sure we didn’t leave anyone behind. I’ll see if there’s any useful information in this hovel. Meet you upstairs.” He doesn’t wait for me to nod before he’s stomping into one of the bedrooms, gun aimed forward.

Each stair groans under my weight as I climb, my heart racing with anticipation. How will I find the scummy bastard that I hog-tied earlier? Will he be broken? Crying and pissing his pants? Or maybe the arrogant streak that I quickly witnessed still runs through him, forcing me to pry every word from his filthy mouth. I hope for the latter. It’s much more fun.

I steel myself as I step into the bedroom. The smell is almost too much to bear. The way these victims were kept… I have no words. Dirty mattresses along the floor, a large dog cage in the corner. Restraints everywhere… ropes, chains, handcuffs. The worst of it isn’t in this room though. It’s in the second bedroom, the one with the cameras.

There he is, face down on the filthy mattress. His ankles bound tight to his wrists, forcing his legs to bow backward. He squirms as he hears me enter, mumbling incoherently. He’s afraid. Fuck yes. That’s what I was hoping for. I know the fear he’s feeling isn’t a fraction of what those girls felt, but it’s something to fuel me. I crouch beside him, keeping my voice casual. “Having fun?”

He lifts his head as much as he’s able. “I’ll kill you. Motherfuc?—”

“Hey, hey, no need to bring my mother into this.” I press my boot against the small of his back, giving him my weight. “If you stay nice and still, I’ll untie you. We need to have a little talk.”

“I’m not telling you shit.” At least that’s what I think he says. Hard to tell with his face smashed against the mattress.

Man, what I wouldn’t give to blow off some steam and really take my time with him. I’m so tense, and as vile as this house is, it’s the perfect place to have a little fun with a monster. But first I need to turn him over so I can see the light leave his eyes.

“Suit yourself. I was going to let you up the nice way.” I yank his bindings, dragging him from the mattress over the splintered wooden floor. Using all my strength, I swing my arm, tossing him against the wall with a loud thud. His head makes contact with the ancient plaster shooting dust into the air. I’m with Damon, we need fucking hazmat suits or gas masks in this damn place. The way his body settles has me chuckling. “You ever do yoga? Pretty sure you’re doing a pose.”

He doesn’t find me hilarious, which I guess I understand, but seriously, I can’t stop laughing. Not until the floor creaks behind me, letting me know that Damon’s come to join the party.

“Umm, I think you’ve officially lost your mind,” he says.

I point, ignoring our floor friend’s threats and curses, and say with a laugh, “He’s doing yoga.”

Damon tilts his head, letting loose a dry laugh of his own. “You know, you’re right. Bet we can put him in a better pose though.”

“Corpse pose?” I offer. Damn, I’m clever.

“I knew you did yoga in Florida. You lying ass,” Damon accuses. “How else would you know pose names?”

“Let me go. You’re dead men. Both of you.”

Damon drops into a crouch, jabbing a finger in my direction. “You better spill the truth later. Those yoga pants I found in the dryer—definitely yours.”

I flash him my innocent smile, the one that women fall over themselves for. Well, most women. Falin’s been immune to its charms. Wait, is it weird that I’m giving my best friend my sexy look? Eh, question for later. “Let’s get his name.”

---