Page 54 of The Santas Who Stole Me

“My guess is the basement. An exterior door on the side of the garage leads to it. There is also a staircase inside the house next to the kitchen that gives access. The basement has a small window near the ceiling above the dryer and washer outlets,” Zee tells us, and my stare remains on the blinking dot marking her location.

Zee looks through the thermal binoculars at the same time a man walks around the side yard. He has a stocky build and dark hair that is pulled into a low ponytail at the base of his neck. His worn denim jacket is out of place. It isn’t cold out, so I assume it’s to cover a weapon or two.

“Guards? Who the fuck does this asshole think he is stationing people outside like he’s royalty?”

“He’s cautious, as he should be due to his impending death. Inside, I see two bodies, one is smaller like a female, one is large like a male. The female isn’t Georgia, it’s not her shape,” Zeke adds.

Another goon walks to the back of the house, and now the body count is at four minimum. The men talk in the backyard. They don’t look like feds, but I know from Lee that can be a deceiving thought. The second guy keeps walking away with a grin on his face, and they are spread apart now. I reach under my seat and grab a pair of bolt cutters. The truck is outfitted with enough weapons to start another world war, along with other helpful tools like axes, and even nunchucks thanks to Calum.

“Calum, go through the neighbor’s yard to the front. There may be more of them out there or in parked cars on that side of the street. Clean, quiet kills, and hide bodies as best you can until we find Georgie,” I tell him with a nod.

“Zeke, get the guy in the back as soon as I’m close enough to get into the basement. Then make your way through the house. Scramble surveillance and we will have Lee do her best to keep it dark. I am going to get our girl. Fuck the cleanup, we can leave the country if we need to, getting her out is the top priority.”

Zee pops his eyebrow at me but says nothing else. He came up with an exit plan if things go sideways, so it’s completely possible for it to look like we never existed on the face of this earth.

With one last glance at the blueprint, I nod to the guys to get going.

Calum silently opens the door but pauses before he slides out. “If shit hits the fan, take Georgie and run,” he tells me, emotions warring on his face.

I swallow, and my throat feels dry. I ignore it. “Okay,” I tell him. We put in our coms. I balked at the price when Zee bought them, but they work long-range and are hardly detectable. I’m grateful for them now if they help us get Georgie back.

“Swear it,” Zee adds.

Calum has a rare look on his face, intense and deadly. He means it. He would give up his life for Georgie. I would, too, and after the display with Zee at the diner, I know he feels the same.

“I swear. Calum, fuck that, kill every mother fucker that dared to step between us.”

Calum’s white teeth appear in an evil grin, and he’s out the door. When we see him hop the fence and cross the street, I make my move, and Zee follows. The coms are silent until the gurgle of someone choking fills my ears. It’s like a hit of the most addicting drug, and Calum calls, “one.” The soft woosh of a bullet flying through the air fills the coms next. Zee calls, “two” in a voice so low that if I hadn’t heard the bullet leave his silencer, I would doubt he spoke at all.

I peer over the bushes on the right of the house to see Zee drag a body off the porch, giving me clearance to move. I dart across the grass and stop when I come to the rusted outer door. Feet shuffle, and before the asshole registers I am in front of him, I spring over the basement door and knock him to the ground beneath me, his breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh. I shove my knee to his chest, keeping him in place. While he’s down, I listen to the soft squelch of the bolt cutters entering his chest.

He grips my arm, but my weight and anger are too much to allow him enough of an advantage to move me.

The bolt cutters are taking too long, so I grab a knife from my belt and slide it across his throat. Blood splashes my face with a final gurgle from this fucker. I shove the knife in my belt again, not giving a fuck about the mess. I sigh, removing the bolt cutters. That was not enough pain for what he deserved. I don’t have time for that. I need Georgie, and my pull to her matters the most. I swipe my arm across my face, removing as much of his blood as I can.

“Three. No lock on the outside of the basement. I am heading in.”

No response from the guys, but I know they are working.

I do another quick glance around the back of the house. Fuck, I hope the lack of a lock means he’s too arrogant to assume she would get out.

She can’t be fucking dead.

Tossing the unneeded bolt cutters, I tug the door open, and it creaks. I duck in before stepping down onto the short ladder, then dropping to my feet without a sound. I leave the door shut despite the darkness, not wanting to tip anyone off. My heart races, and I survey the area. Murky light seeps in through the only small dusty window in the ceiling. The musky smell hits my nose, filling it with the scent of mildew. My pulse picks up, which is unlike me. I’m the calm, collected leader in these situations. Only the fact that this is about Georgie puts the highest stakes in place.

“Four,” Zee says through his earpiece. They must be in the house now.

My eyes adjust slightly when I hear her muffled sob in the corner of the room. I don’t think anyone else is down here, but it’s too dark to tell. The asshole left her in the dark. I feel her terror from across the room.

“No, no,” she whispers, and without a fucking care if I trip or step too loudly, I race toward her voice. She’s in a heap on the floor, folded over herself like she wants to sink into the concrete. I don’t think she senses that I’m standing above her. Her body shakes, and she’s back in that place, when I pulled her out of the basement.

I crouch, afraid to touch her and risk scaring her.

Another sob echoes in the room, and she has about ten seconds before I toss her over my shoulder and race out of here, damn the consequences. I’ll help her get past this at home.

“Kitten.” The soft whisper makes her still, but she doesn’t sit up. “Hey, Georgie, we have to go. Can you walk?” I try again to get her attention.

“Are you real?” The desperate tone in her voice fills my empty heart with dread. I promised he wouldn’t touch her, and I fucking let her down.