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“We’re supposed to be concentrating on keeping us safe,” Rome replies.
“You didn’t deny it though, did you,” Ace retorts, and then suddenly, he’s managed to catch up to me so that he can avoid Rome’s wrath. How the fuck he moved that fast? I have no fucking idea, but it was ridiculously impressive.
He winks at me on the way past and then launches himself over the gate, landing on the other side in a crouch and making it look damn good.
I quickly follow, the others not too far behind, and when I land next to Ace, I say, “That was really hot.”
His smile becomes proud, but he doesn’t reply since we’re joined by all of the others. We all pull our weapons out again, having put them away when we were climbing over the gate.
“At least we can see the house, so we can see that there are no cars or bikes parked there.” Mason points out as we scan the area inside the gates and start forward.
“I don’t like the long grass though. Anything could be hiding in there,” Ace adds.
“Let’s just get to the house and hope that it’s empty,” Mason replies.
While they’re talking and we’re cautiously making our way up the drive, I’m staring at the substantial off-white house that is my family home, or supposedly it is. It’s an elegant mansion with a sweeping driveway and a set of flared steps leading up to an ornately carved door, it could do with a new coat of paint, and it has vines growing up the outside, but it’s aesthetically pleasing and incredibly imposing. The windows are enormous, no doubt, to take advantage of that amazing view, and you can tell that the surrounding gardens used to be beautiful when they were properly looked after.
Something about the place resonates with me, and even as I think that I feel ridiculous, but it really does.
“All the curtains are shut,” Mal mutters under his breath as we start to make our way up the steps, and I pull out the key from under my shirt, pulling the chain over my head and grateful that it’s long enough to do so.
“As soon as we enter find a light, the last thing we want to do is to fumble around in the dark and potentially end up being ambushed,” Rome orders, and we all nod.
As we reach the door, I pause with my key held up to the lock to look at Rome, and he nods for me to go ahead. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I put the key in the lock and turn, momentarily panicking that we got it wrong and the door won’t open.
I try not to audibly breathe a sigh of relief as I hear the distinctive click of the lock disengaging and then push down the handle pushing the door open as I raise my gun and step inside.
Instantly I feel like there’s another presence with us as the guys follow me through the door and end up blocking out the now practically non-existent light from outside. I sense someone approaching from the left, purely because of years of training and the slight shift in the air. I know I’m ahead of the guys and that they’re all behind me, so I know that the person approaching me is not one of us.
My gun is knocked out of my hand in a move that I didn’t see coming, and I strike out, trying to use my other senses to determine where the intruder is. The guys can hear the fight going on, but if I answer them, then I give my position away. Striking out again, I hit what feels like a person's torso and hear a grunt of pain. Smiling, I draw my hand back, able to deduce where the person's face is from where I hit before. I must have hit them harder than I thought because they aren’t trying to strike me back. This may be the only opportunity I have to end this and possibly see who’s behind the parent's murders.
Just as I pull my fist back slightly more, the lights flicker on, and I practically fall over as I desperately try to stop the forward momentum of my hand, and I end up doing some weird spin thing as I immediately turn back to look at the familiar face.
I throw my hands up in the air dramatically as the guys murmur behind me, sounding confused, “Gerald, man, what the fuck are you doing here? You don’t think you could’ve fucking told me?”
Gerald’s smile is broad and full of pride, but before he can answer, a voice from behind me says, “Oh, Love, you were right; our granddaughter has certainly got our son's fire in her.”
Spinning around on my heel, I stare entirely dumbfounded at the woman that’s supposed to be dead and needlessly ask, “Grandma?”
She smiles, her expression full of affection but also with a sharp edge to it as she simply says, “Hello, Dear.”
“What the fuck?”
