Page 61 of Reaper

“Shit, it worked,” Matrix whispers, his eyes wide with surprise.

“I thought you said it would.”

“I was pretty sure.”

“God dammit, Matrix,” I hiss as we pull our guns from our cuts. “Let’s do this.”

Pushing the door open just enough for us to slip through, we step into the dimly lit hallway. So far, no one’s around, but the real danger has only just begun.

The air inside Blackstone’s mansion is heavy and oppressive, suffocating me with memories I’d buried deep within my soul. It’s been over a decade since I last set foot in this house of horrors, but it feels like I’m being dragged back in time to when I was his prisoner.

“Damn,” I mutter under my breath, trying to shake off the feeling of dread that threatens to consume me. My mind flashes back to a particular night—Blackstone’s twisted grin widened as he inflicted pain upon me. His eyes filled with perverse satisfaction. The rage and helplessness I felt back then surge through me now, tightening around my chest like a vise.

“You okay?” Matrix asks, furrowing his brow.

“Fine,” I reply, pushing down the memories and forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. “Let’s keep moving.”

We creep through the dimly lit hallways, our footsteps muffled by the thick carpet beneath us. As we’re about to round a corner, I hear footsteps approaching. Without hesitation, I melt into the shadows, my heart pounding in my ears as I motion for Matrix to do the same.

I grip my gun, ready to attack.

As the guard nears, I watch him carefully, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When he’s close enough, I spring from my hiding spot, grabbing him and putting him in a chokehold. His eyes widen in shock, but I hold on tight, refusing to let go until he slumps in my arms, unconscious.

“Nice,” Matrix whispers, impressed.

I nod, quickly checking the guard for weapons before taking his gun and sliding it into my cut.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say, my voice barely audible.

We have what we need, and I know our time grows shorter by the minute. My thoughts drift to Lexi, Daisy, and the rest of our family waiting for us back at the clubhouse.

The weight of the unconscious guard bears down on my shoulders, but I push through thepain, knowing that every step takes us closer to our goal. Matrix is close behind me, his eyes scanning the surroundings as we make our way out of the mansion and through the field.

“Stay low,” I whisper, mindful of the farm equipment scattered throughout the area. It provides us with cover, but it also means there might be more guards lurking nearby.

As if on cue, another guard walks past, oblivious to our presence. I hold my breath, tensed and ready to strike if necessary. But he keeps going, and soon, he’s just a distant figure disappearing into the night.

“Let’s move,” Matrix says.

We continue toward the fence where Scar waits for us, his face etched with worry. He helps me pull the guard through the hole we created.

“Heavy fucker,” Scar says as I shift the guard off my shoulder onto his.

“Need a hand, pres?” Nitro asks.

“Nah, I got ’em.”

When we get back to the rendezvous point, Tucker’s there with our nondescript white van. Scar and the other club members load the guard into the cage.

“Keep him quiet,” I tell Tucker, who nods as he ties up the guard and gags him. Though still unconscious, I know this guy will be a problem once he wakes up.

“Al right, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Scar orders.

We mount our bikes, and the roar of the engines fills the air. We’re far enough away that Blackstone’s men didn’t hear us coming, and they won’t hear us leaving.

As Scar leads the way back to the clubhouse, my mind races with thoughts of what comes next. I can’t wait to get my hands on this fucker. It’s been over a decade since we were Blackstone’s prisoners, so I doubt this guy was one of the guards who kept us trapped in the basement, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to bash his face in. I’m sure he’s just as bad as they were. Blackstone doesn’t hire good people. Well, except Lexi, but look how that turned out.

Upon returning to the clubhouse, I spot the van parked out back by the entrance to the cellar. I open the back, only to find the guard now conscious and struggling, his eyes filled with anger and fear.

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