Page 114 of Inflict

“Why the feck wouldn’t they tear this place down?” Connor wondered out loud.

Killian checked his gun before wiping his hands down on his wet pants. “The deed belonged to somebody, I suppose.”

“It looks ready to fall in on itself.”

“That’s accurate, but people don’t just tear things down around here. They can always be fixed.”

Connor took a moment to survey the land through the darkness, noting the cliffs to the east and the miles of fields all around them. Land that would be perfect for animal grazing, though it clearly hadn’t been used for that in years.

Something familiar irked at his mind.

He knew this place.

Or maybe he’d seen it before.

Connor was sure if it was light out, he might have a better idea about what was so familiar, but right then, he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What’s wrong?” Killian asked.

“Feels familiar.”

Killian cocked a brow. “You don’t recognize it at all?”

“If you do, don’t feck around, just spit it out.”

“Your father’s office, Connor.”

Ah.

There it was.

All the pictures on Sean’s office walls reflected this very landscape in one way or another.

“Yeah, that’s what it is.” Now, more than ever before, Connor had no doubt that they were in the right place. Sean—despite claiming his homeland had betrayed him for years—had clearly clung on to the pieces of his past that he was unwilling to leave behind entirely. Go back to the beginning … “You hit the front, I’ll hit the back.”

Killian looked to him. “Want me to make a scene?”

“A big one. Distract him. I don’t need to make a show of killing him, he just needs to feckin’ go. If he’s concentrating on you, he won’t even see me coming from behind.”

Connor had never spoken truer words.

He was ready for this whole thing to be over, to have Evelyn safely back with him, and to go home. He wasn’t asking for much.

“All right. You’ll know when I’m there, I’ll make sure you hear it,” Killian said.

Connor nodded once, and then headed toward the cottage, leaving Killian to do his own thing. He only thought of it afterward, as he skimmed along the side of the building, keeping his head low when he came near a window, but he should have thanked his friend again.

He reminded himself to do that the first chance he could.

As Connor neared the rear of the house, where the one light filtered out of the window, he stilled against the wall, hearing something … strange. It was muffled a bit, but not quite enough that he couldn’t make out what exactly the sound was.

Screams.

A woman’s, specifically.

The numbness that Connor had been feeling—the one thing that was getting him through these awful minutes—bled away in an instant, leaving him with simmering anxiety and overflowing rage. The woman’s screams continued, high-pitch and terrified. The sound was so grating, so horrible, that it propelled him toward the back of the cottage at a faster speed than before.

All he could think of was her.