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Chapter twenty-six
Silas
Istoodinthe shadows of the trees, staring at the ramshackle building but seeing no movement. There was a short set of stairs leading to a small porch and the front door. I had circled the building, keeping to the forest, and there was only one way in, the single window having been boarded up pretty good.
This would be a whole lot easier if Hawthorn and I hadn’t split up. Checking my phone, I saw that I still had no coverage. I was going to have to have a serious talk with my service provider because this was bullshit.
I had no idea how many of them there were, but it didn’t matter; I’d take them all myself. I just had to be smart about it.
Working my way around to the front again, I searched the forest floor around me until I found what I was looking for: a rock about the size and shape of a baseball. Creeping forward, I got as close as I was able while still remaining hidden, then I threw the rock as hard as I could, grinning when it landed squarely on the front porch.
Scrambling around again, I darted through the trees, the shadows of the cloudy day only helping my cause as I headed to the back of the building and pulled my weapon. Pressed tight against the back wall, I could hear voices inside, one shouting, the other grumbling.
After some more back and forth, the front door finally opened and I heard someone coming down the steps. Adjusting my grip on my pistol, I listened, gauging the direction of movement. Moving on silent feet, I made my way to the far corner, and when the guy rounded the building, I was ready.
“Don’t fucking move, dipshit,” I growled, keeping my voice low.
“Well, fuck.” His shoulders slumped in defeat as he sighed, seemingly resigned to the situation.
“How many of you are there?” I asked, reaching out with my other hand and hauling the guy behind the building with me. I towered over him by a good five inches, and I used all the height to my advantage, pressing my forearm across his throat while I held the gun to his temple. This close, the unwashed smell of dirty man and bad breath was almost overpowering, and I clenched my teeth against the gag that threatened.
When he didn’t immediately respond I pressed harder, both with my arm and the gun, but the guy just wheezed out a laugh.
“I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”
“You’ll tell m,e or I’ll shoot you where you stand.”
“You think I fuckin’ care if you shoot me?” he spat, his long hair hanging in his eyes making it difficult for me to get a read on him. “Go ahead. Still won’t change a thing.” A sinister smile breaks across his face. “Both those bitches are toast.”
I had felt anger before. I had felt fear and hopelessness and even vengefulness.
But never in my entire life had such pure and unadulterated rage as I did in that moment.
That someone had the gall to stare me in the eye and threaten the person who meant the most to me in the entire world caused a volcano of fury to erupt inside, and before I even registered that I was moving, my fist was smashing in his stupid fucking face. Over and over, I pounded him, my fingers still curled around the grip of the gun, but there was no containing my anger.
“You won’t touch her!” I snarled, my voice a low growl.
After several more solid hits, the asshole went limp beneath me, his body now dead weight under my arm, and I stepped back while he crumpled to the dirt.
“You won’t touch her ever again,” I spat, before landing a solid kick to his ribcage for good measure. He didn’t even stir.
“Jesus fuck. What the hell, Leroy?”
The voice was close, the words clear and loud as they came from directly on the other side of the wall, but looking down at the man who I presumed was Leroy, there was no way he was going to answer. That fucker was out cold.
Giving him a quick pat down, I was honestly surprised to see he wasn’t carrying a weapon; not even a Swiss Army Knife.
I was still trying to decide what to do with him—I might have been pissed, but killing an unarmed, unconscious man was a little dark, even for me—when I heard another stomping set of footsteps exiting the building. Taking up a defensive position again, I listened, creeping toward the corner where I had met the first guy.
I was still waiting, wondering what the hell was taking him so long, when a sound behind me had me spinning.
“Ah, ah,” came the mocking tone of the guy currently pointing a gun in my face. “Not so fast, fucker. Who the hell are you?”
I stared at him, my face impassive as I watched his eyes dart from side to side, looking like he was either gonna bolt or fall down.
“I asked you a question,” he said, the barrel of the gun waving around, making him look like a junkie holding up a liquor store. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing way out here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I said slowly. “What’s a shit stain like you doing on the side of a fuckin’ mountain? Shouldn’t you be in a back alley somewhere, scraping your dinner off the pavement?”
I was trying to make him angry, get him to react without thinking, but rather than coming at me, the guy threw his head back and laughed. “Good one. Good one.” He kept chuckling like I had said the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his life, before his face turned serious again in an instant, actually surprising me with his rapid shift in demeanor. “My turn.”
He moved so fast, I could hardly follow, striking at me like a crazed monkey, windmilling both arms and kicking out at the same time.
But.
He was so far away from me, not a single one of his attempted strikes came anywhere close to hitting me. I stood there, stunned, as the weird little freak bounced around like he was starring in a bad kung fu movie, vocalizing his movements with hiya sounds as he hopped from foot to foot.
After a few more overzealous moves that I guessed were meant to be roundhouse kicks but looked like anything but, he finally stopped, chest heaving, and grinned at me like a nutjob.
“Alright,” he said, the gun in his hand forgotten as he held his pose, looking like the movie poster for The Karate Kid. “Show me what you got.”
So I punched him. Right in between the eyes, I clocked him so good the surprise didn’t even have time to register on his face before he spun around and hit the ground next to his friend.
Shit. Now I had two unconscious assholes to deal with.
But before I could worry about either of them, I had to get to Daphne. Who knew what kind of hell she was dealing with in there.
Repositioning my sweaty hand on the gun, I crept my way around the building, not sure how many more guys I may be dealing with while trying to move as fast as possible. Now that I was here—now that she was this close—it was as if I could sense her, like my very soul was connected to hers. I could feel a tugging sensation behind my ribs, the constant ache that had taken up residence there for the last two years, now pulling me toward her with urgency.
I just need to see her, to hold her in my arms and know that she was alright.
I could sort out the rest later.
Finally, around to the front of the building again, I made my way up the rickety stairs, grimacing at the noise the old wood made beneath my feet, no matter how carefully I stepped. Pausing to listen, I didn’t hear anything from inside the building as I reached for the know with one hand, turning it slowly as I entered the room.
The space was simple, utilitarian, and completely empty. My gaze darted around the room, noting the chair against the counters and the overturned drawer on the floor, but otherwise, nothing stood out to me as suspicious or dangerous. Seeing the hallway to one side, I stared to head in that direction, figuring that was the place they were keeping her, when a scream shattered the silence of the room.
Spinning fast, I reacted without thinking, swatting away the knife that had been meant for my back and using my other hand to grab the person by the throat, slamming them back into the wall.
My breath froze in my lungs as I finally registered who I was looking at, who I had gasping under my hand, and I released her as though she was on fire.
“Silas,” she breathed, and my name had never sounded so good on her lips.
Before I could respond, before I could even move, she threw herself at me and crushed her mouth to mine.
