Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Liam moved toward where the bar once stood—if all the broken glass was anything to go by. He frowned.
“Liam?” I called. “What is it?”
“The report that there was another bombing concerned us all, of course. The last few were distinctly Merchant-related, but now that we’re here, none of this is right.” His frown deepened gazing around. “Empty bar. Second-floor apartment. This is the home of a wannabe actress fresh from community college. It’s not the home of a Merchant, or a home that rivals the Fairfield. How was she supposed to be safer here than the last safe house?”
“You’ve got a point, brother mine.” Sunny stepped over a fallen beam. “I clock three buildings where a sniper could line their shot. Also, this place is too out of the way.”
“Why is that a bad thing?” Sienna asked.
“I told you my sister prefers to be where the trouble is. Like Barbarella’s and her last place. If anyone’s going to cause some shit, they’d better be prepared to do it with witnesses filming them and sending their mugs viral. Unfortunately, the Brotherhood was happy to spray bullets into the crowd around her safe house, but that’s the same crowd that gave her cover to get away.”
“Out here in this back-alley abandoned building, the Brotherhood would surround this place and no one would be around to see or call for help,” I finished. “Oh my gosh, Liam, it’s true. This isn’t an upgrade on the locked-down fortress Genny walked out of. She was reckless, but not this reckless. She wouldn’t live here.”
I laughed—a joyful, light sound. Sunny’s optimism and Liam’s logic—together they were powerful enough to make me believe anything, and I believed in them. Genny would not choose this place as safe house number three. She was alive.
“But someone did die here.” I curled around Sunny’s fingers. “Some poor soul blown up. Why? If this isn’t about the Brotherhood and the Merchants, who else is out here setting bombs?” My flashlight scanned the remains. “This isn’t the most common murder weapon.”
Dusting off his hands, Liam headed for his car. “That’s for the Cinco PD to determine. We need to find our sister.”
“We should check with Mom and Dads,” Bane offered. We turned away, stepping over the mess, clearing out. “It’s a long shot, but maybe she took the roundabout way up there and left her phone behind. She knows we’re being tracked even if she doesn’t know how. She wouldn’t risk leading them to our parents.”
“Wait. What about your parents?” I cried. “Do they know about the trackers?”
“They don’t wear Caddell anymore,” Bane said. “High fashion tends to be more about style than comfort. I’m told by the time you hit your sixties, you favor the latter.”
“Fair enough. At least we know they’re safe— Wait.” I stopped, finally noticing someone missing. Spinning around, I fell on Sienna standing amidst the debris. She didn’t seem to notice us all walking away. “Sienna? Sienna, what are you doing?”
“Shh. Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
She shushed me again. Kneeling down, Sienna cocked her head, brows furrowing. She flapped an agitated hand, signaling us to come back.
“What’s going on?” Liam asked.
“I hear something. Guys, get over here.”
I approached Sienna, listening close. She knelt beside the beam, practically putting her ear against it.
“Listen.”
“Si, what am I listening—”
“...out...”
Shooting forward, I stuck my face against the beam. “What was that?”
“What was what?” Bane asked. “I don’t hear anything.”
My flashlight was on with a click, sweeping over the floor. This part of the bar floor was covered with the charred remains of a rug. Strange in and of itself. Why put a rug down in a bar room? It’s destined to get gross and grimy from a thousand dirty boots.
I peeled the rug up. My eyes bugged.
“Guys, we need to get this beam off. Now!”
They didn’t ask me why. The guys fell by our side, planting their hands on the wood.
“Ready?” Sienna called. “One, two, three. Push.”
We strained—digging our feet in, shoving on the obstacle. It held stubborn, not budging an inch.
“Harder,” I groaned. “One, two, three. Push.”
Bane put his shoulder into it. His muscles rippled beneath the tight gray tee gifted the privilege of hugging his body. A gift I only received recently, and that’s because I took it. Recent events got in the way of us finishing our conversation after I demanded he turn me into the deadliest version of myself, then threw myself at him. But we would have that conversation soon.
The beam scraped across the floor inch... by inch... by inch—
The rug popped up. “—me out!”
Shoving it the rest of the way, Sienna scrambled to throw the rug off, revealing a trap metal door. I flung it open and gazed down into the incensed eyes of Genevieve Hunt.
“It’s about fucking time! What the hell were you all doing? Waiting for an engraved invitation!”