Page 8 of Chasing Temptation
“Calm down,” Eddie demands when he gets a look at my expression and the heaving of my chest. “We need to go about this rationally. You getting all angry and possessive isn’t going to help us.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were experienced with this kind of thing.” He opens his mouth to respond but obviously changes his mind. “Lucky for us, I know a thing or two about breaking and entering.”
“Of course you do,” he mutters, but I choose to ignore it. I know how I look, and I know how I’m judged by people like him.
Silence falls around us as we watch and wait. The minutes tick by painfully slowly. The light from the window we saw earlier flicks on and off a few more times before movement downstairs captures my focus. I want to see the motherfucker who’s going to rot in jail after this. I want to look him in the motherfucking eyes until he knows that what he tried to ruin is now mine, and like fuck am I ever going to treat her like he did.
“I think he’s going,” Eddie whispers, his own eyes locked on the house.
“What gave you that idea?” I quip, seeing as we’ve both just watched him shrug his coat on.
“Fuck off. Do you want my help or not?”
Rolling my eyes, I turn my focus back to the house. We can’t see the front door, but we hear it slam and then the engine of one of the cars roaring to life.
“Ready?” Eddie asks, but he’s too late. I’m already halfway towards the house.
Pulling my sleeve down over my hand, I slam it through the glass in the outbuilding and reach inside for the handle.
“What the fuck? This place is alarmed.”
“That old thing strapped to the front of the house? Please, that stopped working years ago.”
I push the door open, and he follows me until we reach another.
“Now what?”
“Do you have any confidence in me?”
He mutters a response, but I don’t hear it. I’m too busy backing up, ready to slam my shoulder into the wood and hoping it’s as weak as it looks.
“Joe, I don’t think that’s—” A loud crash sounds out as the door comes free from its hinges and falls into the kitchen beyond.
“Shut the fuck up, posh boy. Are you actually going to help me or just stand there looking like you’re going to piss your pants?”
He fumes, looking over my shoulder. “You go. I’ll keep watch.”
I’m on the move before he even finishes his sentence.
The house is a blur as I run through to find the stairs. I know exactly where I need to go; I just need to find out how to get there.
Taking the stairs three at a time, I race towards the back of the house. Door after door lines the long hallway, making the house seem so much bigger than it looked from the outside.
I throw each one open and find the light, but each one is empty aside from the furniture. That is, until I get to the one at the very end. When I turn the handle, nothing happens.
“Quinn?” I roar, hoping to get a response, but nothing other than the sound of my own erratic breathing fills my ears. “Fuck.”
Backing up, I run at the door, hoping it’s as useless as the one downstairs. Sadly, it isn’t, and it’s not until my third attempt that the wood starts to splinter. I put everything I have into the fourth shove, and thankfully, the door swings open at a twisted angle.
The room is in darkness and the windows have been closed up for some time, if the musty smell is anything to go by.
A noise—a moan—breaks through the ringing in my ears, and when I slam my hand down on the light switch, the woman it belongs to comes into focus but only barely, the dim bulb hanging in the centre of the room dull at best.
“Quinn, fuck.” Running towards her, I drop to my knees beside her lifeless body. My heart aches in my chest; it damn near feels like it’s going to split in two as I stare down at her.
There’s a dirty rag wrapped around her face, cutting into her mouth, halting her from speaking. I make quick work of untying it and pulling her weak body into my arms.
Quiet sobs fall from her lips as she shivers against me.
