Page 69 of Reaper

“Get a grip. You’re not here for yourself. You’re here for Ace.” That thought alone is enough to keep me going.

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I brace myself for the horrors I once knew all too well, expecting to find damp stone walls and the criesof kidnapped children echoing off the cold floor.

Instead, I find myself standing in a remodeled TV room, complete with plush couches and a massive flat screen TV.

“Damn.”

Daisy had told me the FBI searched the basement and found this room, but I didn’t fully believe her. Blackstone must’ve remodeled to hide his twisted secrets from the world.

“You sick bastard,” I whisper, rage simmering beneath the surface.

I scan the room, but there’s no sign of Ace. Relief washes over me, but it’s short-lived. I have to find him before it’s too late.

“Focus, Reaper,” I tell myself, racing back up the stairs.

“Reaper,” Scar whispers as I reach the top. “I searched Blackstone’s office and the library, but no sign of Ace. I’ve got a bad feeling …”

“Basement’s clear,” I interrupt, my voice strained with urgency. “Only one place left to look.”

“Blackstone’s bedroom,” Scar spits, visibly shuddering at the thought. I’m sure he’s feeling the same dread churning in my gut. The idea of Ace being with Blackstone sends a wave of nausea through me.

“Let’s hope we’re not too late,” I whisper, clenching my fists. We can’t fail him. We’ve got to get him back before Blackstone destroys him the way he did us.

“Scar,” I say, my voice low and urgent, “find Talon, Nitro, and Tucker. Head upstairs using the servant’s stairs. I’ll take the main staircase.”

“Stay sharp,” Scar warns me, his eyes filled with concern. “There’s no telling what we’ll find up there.”

“You too,” I reply, my grip tightening on my gun and the knife I’d grabbed earlier.

As I ascend the grand staircase, my senses are on high alert, each step bringing me closer to Blackstone’s twisted room of pain.

Plush two-inch thick carpet covers the stairs, masking my assent. The luxury of this place sickens me. It’s a stark contrast to the suffering that took place beneath these polished floors. My back tenses as anger rushes through me. I refuse to let this monster win. Not again.

As I reach the top of the stairs, I glance to the right, down the hallway. A guard, unaware of my presence, walks away from me with his back turned.

This is my chance.

I rush him, channeling every ounce of strength into a ferocious strike aimed at catching him off guard.

“Ugh!” The guy grunts as I stab the kitchen knife into his shoulder. A second later, my fist connects with the back of his head. Years of riding the open road has honed my reflexes, but I know better than to underestimate any of Blackstone’s men.

The guard stumbles forward but recovers quickly. He rips the knife out of his shoulder and tosses it away. He rushes me, retaliating with a vicious punch of his own. The mansion resonates with the sound of fists meeting flesh, echoing through the gilded halls.

“Didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?” the guard sneers, wiping blood from his mouth.

“Never do,” I grunt in response, circling him warily. We’re both sizing each other up, searching for weaknesses.

“Your boss is going down,” I tell him between clenched teeth. “And you’re going with him if you don’t get the fuck out of my way.”

“Over my dead body,” he spits back, lunging at me once more.

“Your choice,” I reply, bracing myself for the fight that lies ahead.

We exchange blows, both of us determined to come out victorious. Sweat drips down my face, but I don’t bother wiping it away.

“Is that all you’ve got?” the guard taunts, smirking through his swollen lip. He doesn’t know what he’s up against. Not yet.

I reach for the knife concealed in my cut. I could use my gun, but that would make too much noise. So far, no one seems to realize we’re inside the mansion. The element of surprise is on our side, and I intend to keep it that way.

---