Page 99 of Wicked Deceit
When Piper and I had rounded the back of the house, I took stock of every boarded-up window. I made a mental note where each one was, and finally, when they sat me in the control room, they gave me a view of the entire house. I knew there would be one in here and in every room along the way. It left no room for doubt.
Kaycee sits like a feather in my arms, light and unmoving, but her blue eye stays on me. “I’m getting you out of here.” A promise weaves its way through my words, making its mark.
A weak smile spreads on her cracking lips, and she nods, acknowledging my words. “The others?” Looking down at her, I nod in confirmation and kiss her forehead, never wanting to leave this embrace.
“They’ll be here, Sweetheart. So, keep your promise, okay?” I kneel and set her lightly on the large window sill, where she rests, watching me as I tear through the boards and throw them to the ground, ripping through the flesh of my fingers.
I fish out Kaycee’s phone and bring up the flashlight, shining it through the dirty glass. The bright light bursts through the window, flashing three times and signaling to the idiot outside that it’s time to take our girl for help. I’m handing over my life through a window. Taking a shaky breath, relief finally shoots through me at the sight of a shadow running across the lawn at top speed. It’s either him or Veritas, and my bets are on him. Veritas has been nothing but useless during this entire situation. Fuck them.
Seger’s pale and sweaty face comes into view, standing right outside the window with fear beaming in his eyes. His gaze rakes over Kaycee’s form as she sits in the window sill, looking half alive, and fucking bloodied all to hell. Thank fuck he found this place with my spotty directions because I wasn’t sure he’d be able to. All I knew was we were in the middle of the woods, surrounded by tall fucking trees, and in a house that doesn’t exist on paper. I gave my best guess, and this dickweed somehow found us before fucking Veritas.
“Son, hold off! Don’t do anything until the lights come back on!” My father grunts from behind the locked door of the room. He pounds and pounds, threatening to send it off its old ass hinges. If he breaks through, we’re screwed.
“Yeah, okay,” I holler back with sarcasm, trying to get him to back off. But something in my gut tells me I need to hurry this along because my father isn’t a fucking idiot, and he knows I’ve successfully fucked him over. I gently bring Kaycee back into my arms, avoiding the knife sticking out of her gut, and kiss her head again.
“It won’t open!” I growl through the window at a pale Seger. Sweat pours off his face after his long run, and he huffs. His eyes narrow in on the lump in my arms. I hadn’t prepared him—or any of them—for what he was about to see. Hell, I’m not fucking prepared either.
Seger whips his jacket off and wraps it around his fist. “Back the fuck up,” he hisses, rearing his fist back. “I’m going to fucking break it.” I cover Kaycee’s ear with my hand and take a step back as the glass shatters all over the floor, exploding in a million different directions. He clears the rest of the shards, spraying more on the floor, and then throws his coat into the grass. My heart pounds violently as my father bangs his fist with more force, and the chair under the handle screeches on the floor.
“Take her to the maze. I’ve talked to an agent for Veritas, and they said something about a fucking ambulance.” Tears stream down Seger’s face, but he nods anyway. “I’m sorry, man, I’m so fucking sorry. I tried, but there—”
“Don’t you be fucking sorry, you hear me? You were here, trying to find a way out. She’ll understand,” he pants as I place her into his awaiting arms.
I run a hand down my face and nod, but he can’t be serious. I let her down so badly. She’s hurt because I couldn’t get her and run. She’s in this condition, unable to fucking walk, knocking on death’s door because of me. I left the fucking Maze House to talk to Veritas in secret. I fucking did this, and I’ll never fucking forgive myself.
“Carter,” she whispers, calling me out of my self-loathing. “None of this is your fault, Grumpy.” I laugh a breath, shaking my head at that stupid fucking nickname they gave me. “I love you, and you remember that. Now come on,” she says, waving a finger for me to join her.
I run a hand down my face again and shake my head. “Get her to safety. I have things I need to take care of.” I peer over my shoulder as the hinges on the door finally break, and the bane of my existence barrels through like a damn bull, breaking everything in his angry path.
“Carter, man, no,” Seger says through sadness. “You still have time to run. Come on.” His head bobs toward the forest as he steps back, clutching Kaycee like a precious jewel. “Carter, brother,” he pleads, tears forming in his eyes and running down his cheek.
“Go,” I bark out. “Get the fuck out of here!” His body trembles with indecision, and his eyes dart from me to safety. “Take her to safety, man,” I grit out, nodding at him to run and save her from the knife still sticking out of her stomach. A long time ago, someone told me that if I got stabbed, just to let it stay. I would not risk her life. Not again. If I can slow them down and harm them, I will.
“You don’t have to!” Seger yells as he runs, only looking over his shoulder once.
“You, shit!” My father shouts, stomping toward me with rage contorting his reddened face, and his fingers curl into fists.
Well, our plan worked. The lights pulled the moment I had a chance alone with her, and Seger came to save her. Thankfully, they could find the house out of nowhere, unlike Veritas. But it seems like Veritas has finally found us by the sound of the sharp cries from outside. Everything I’ve done until this point was to save her. I don’t fucking care about myself. If I can slow down these cult bastards, then so be it. I’ll fucking do it.
I suck in one last breath, watching the dancing shadows in the forest until I know they’re clear. Turning my body, I meet the barrel of a gun pointed directly at my chest. And three pissed-off assholes in red robes.
“What the fuck did you do?” My father asks, pulling the revolver’s hammer back, and it clicks into place, putting a bullet into the chamber. I have no doubt that my father will pull the trigger and leave me for dead. In his eyes, I dished out the ultimate betrayal against him and his disgusting brothers.
Crowe steps forward, pushing up his sleeves like he’s ready for a fight—which is fucking hilarious. “You played us good, didn’t ya, boy?” He growls, pushing his nose into my face to provoke me. And well, I’ve waited long enough to enact my revenge on these fucking sickos.
I explode every ounce of anger into him, colliding my heavy fists with his face and crunching in his nose and cheeks. He cries out, falling to the floor with a thud. He tries to get up, but I straddle him, pounding his face over and over repeatedly until he’s reduced to nothing more than a whimpering pool of blood.
“ENOUGH!” my father yells, still pointing the gun in my direction.
I heave myself off Crowe with heavy breaths, grinning as he remains on the floor, groaning and spouting curses. Blood pours from his crooked nose and paints his fingers. I spread my arms wide, silently asking who else wants a piece of me. If I’m going to die by the bullet in my father’s gun, I might as well go out swinging.
I bark out a laugh when Shaw takes the bait and swings at me, but I weave and punch him in the gut. My fist lands hard and fast, knocking the air from his pathetic lungs. He wheezes, crumpling over, giving me the perfect opportunity to strike him in the temple. I send him flying right into Crowe, who lies on the ground, still groaning like a fucking baby.
“Sissy fucking assholes,” I say, spitting on them as they lie there catching their breath. Reaching down, I intend to inflict more pain than they did to Kaycee, but my father has other plans.
“I said, enough!” My father yells again, shooting off his gun in my direction.
My breaths leave me, and a burn singes through the red robe I’m still wearing and through my t-shirt underneath. A warmth pools, bubbling from the wound going clean through my back, and I swallow hard. I knew he had no qualms about injuring me, and this fucking proves what an unfeeling bastard he is.
