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“Look at that,” he murmured, shining the light on the spikes inside. They were a darker color than the already-dark metal they were made of. “They even made it look like blood.”
“Okay. Noted. Can we get out of here now?” she asked, her voice wavering.
She pressed her body against his back and a different unease stirred within him. Lucas was gone, the threat eliminated. There was no real reason for them to check out the rest of this torture basement, was there? Yet something held him back, some unnamed reluctance he couldn’t shake.
“So this is your idea of a thorough search?” he asked. “We haven’t been down here five minutes yet.”
He felt her bristle, and he swung his light to the low ceiling. In the reflected cone of illumination, he could see her eyes sparkle.
“I just don’t think we’re going to find any bodies down here. Do you?” she challenged.
He shrugged, turning so she was pressed against his side instead of his back. “Who knows what our friend Lucas left behind? Maybe a stash of weapons or plans. I really don’t know.”
“Here’s an idea. We leave now, and once we get the light switch fixed, I send Karol, or someone else on the team I’m going to let him hire, back here to find out if there are any traps or weapons,” she suggested. He heard the shiver in her voice.
“There are already weapons here,” he noted, shining the light back to the iron maiden.
“Modern weapons, then,” she said, giving him a look that made his heart race.
“Believe me, I’ll be glad to put this godforsaken place behind me,” he agreed, hating that just a look from her could distract him. “The sooner I’m free of all of this shit, the better.” He saw the unintended barb hit home in the flash of pain across her face. Remorse pierced him, but before he could retract the words, her eyes turned flinty.
“Don’t let me keep you,” she threw back. “I’m sure your team awaits the return of their esteemed leader. I can carry on the search down here. There probably isn’t much more, anyway.”
She stepped away from him and clicked on her own flashlight, stalking into the dark, her spine stiff with haughty purpose.
Cursing under his breath, he followed. He quickened his steps, the bobbing circle of her light drawing him forward like a tether he was helpless to break.
They walked side by side in bristling silence through the icy gloom. The basement yawned ahead of them, a vast underworld untethered from time. Midway, two smaller tunnels led off to the right and left.
“Jesus,” she muttered, echoing his thoughts. “Should we split up? It’ll make this go faster,” she asked, her voice gruff with bravado.
“No,” he replied, shining the light on his face so she could see he was smiling. “Splitting up is exactly when everything goes to shit in horror movies.”
That broke the tension, and she chuckled lightly. It made him feel better.
They’d only taken a few steps into the right tunnel when his phone beeped. He pulled it out to see the glow of the reception icon. It now had a red line through it. “I lost the signal,” he said.
Hartley turned at that, scanning his face intently. Then another beep sounded and she pulled out her phone. “Same for me,” she said sardonically. “Make a note that the phones need better antennas.”
He schooled his features, giving nothing more than a taut smile of acknowledgement. Unease tightened inside him at the thought of moving deeper into the tunnel.
“We should go back,” he said. “It’s not smart to continue if we can’t call for help.”
A noise skittered ahead of them, and Hartley jumped against his side. “You don’t need to tell me twice,” she said, tugging on his coat to turn him around.
He couldn’t stop his arm from going around her, giving her a reassuring squeeze. Much later, when he thought back to this moment, he’d blame his intense awareness of her for causing him to miss all the warning signs.
CHAPTER24
Once they left the tunnel full of rats behind, Hartley felt braver. Or at least brave enough to step away from Monty.
“Careful, there are shallow holes over there,” he warned, and the austerity in his voice brought some of her old fire back.
“I think I can walk on my own,” she replied. She was erecting walls with her bitchiness, insulating herself against her feelings for him. Nothing like a haunted torture chamber to make you cling to your ex-husband.
“If you sprain an ankle, don’t think I’m going to carry you out like some romantic hero,” he added, which annoyed the hell out of her.
Good, be annoyed, she told herself.The distance will protect your heart. “Don’t worry, romantic is the last description I’d give to a cheating ex,” she said smugly. But she did cast the light around on the ground, picking out one of the shallow depressions he’d mentioned and stepping over it.
