Page 155 of Dark Little Game
Even if I were capable of panicking, I don’t have time for it now. I need to know where this tiny trail of blood leads.
I may be moments away from my own death, but my life?
My life doesn’t matter.
All I need to know is that the person is safe.
Whether it’s the life of a girl who stayed here in Luros House, or…
Rayne.
And, fuck, my brother’s life, too.
I walk upstairs and find the only closed door in the upstairs hallway, and my heartbeat stills for a moment.
There’s something behind that door. I’m certain of it.
I take my steps lightly, because I may need the element of surprise. I reach for the knife in my pocket, flicking it open and gripping it in my palm.
My hands are steady.
And I’m fucking putting an end to this.
I push open the door and my heart drops when I see the inside of the room. And it’s like the wind is knocked out of me, when I realize the truth.
This is Briar’s room.
Along the windows, the little glass habitats she keeps for raising caterpillars into moths and butterflies.
And on the other end, two people tied up in chairs.
Two people who arevery much still alive,and safe, other than being tied up.
I feel relief well up inside me like I’ve never felt before in my life.
They’re alive.
Weston and Rayne are here, alive, and right now they’re alone in the room.
“Rayne. Weston,” I say, the world going surreal.
They both have tape over their mouths. Some sadistic criminal needed them silent.
People I care about.
The two people who are most important to me in the world.
I run over and rip the tape from both of their mouths and in my peripheral vision, I can see that the blood is dripping from Rayne’s hand.
He’s crying the moment he can speak. “I heard gunshots outside. Hunter, I thought you weregone?—”
“I’m here. I’m right here.”
“It’sher,” Rayne says, panicked. “Briar. She’s—she has a British accent, and she’s fucking trying to kill us, Hunter?—”
“We need to get the fuck out of here.Now,” I tell them.
My knife is on the ropes that tie them up a moment later. I cut them both loose, and they stumble up, the wooden chairs clattering to the ground.
