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Removing my shirt, I pull open my closet door and take my mask that’s hanging behind it. Pointing toward the door, I raise my eyebrows. “You gonna get the fuck out so I can get changed?”
Kurr laughs, slipping out the front door. Unbuckling my belt, I step out of my slacks and pull on my jeans before shoving my combat boots on. Snatching my mask, I pull the door open again to see Kurr lighting up his cigar and watching me closely.
“Feeling theatrical today, are we?” He flicks his hands up and down my body. “The no-shirt thing you have going on.”
I look down at my bare chest and shrug before placing my mask on my face. “Sick of ruining all my shirts. Depending on how much blood you spill, it doesn’t always come out.”
Kurr smiles, a proud glint in his eye. “I raised you right, son.”
I tense behind my mask and begin walking towards the main house.
“You gonna keep sweet-talking me or we gonna get this shit started?” I walk into the house just as Royal is walking around the corner. Blood is stained all over the front of his shirt and I chuckle. “Busy boy?”
He lifts his mask, pulling out a cigarette and placing it into his mouth. “You could say that. He won’t budge. I’ve done it all, tried it all.”
I swing my arms back, releasing my tense muscles and cracking my neck. “What cell?”
Royal takes a long pull of his smoke. “Seven.” Kurr walks past me and into the kitchen. The house was built mainly for the dungeon underneath, but the ground floor looks like a normal old southern home.
I walk towards the heavy wooden door which leads to the stairs to the dungeon.
Royal laughs from behind me. “Any particular reason you’re not wearing a shirt, Tripp?”
I look over my shoulder at him. “Want me to warm up on you, Royal? Because let me tell you, I have a lot of energy that needs burning.”
Royal’s face stills. “I was joking.”
“Fuck off.” I slam the door shut and make my way down the brick stairs. The dim room is lit by the many candles which are hanging from the walls. Once I hit the bottom, I begin walking down the long room that has cells on each side.
The sobs from the cell behind me catch me just as I reach cell five. Turning around, I tilt my head at the woman curled on the floor, her shoulders jiggling from her pain. That was Millie not long ago. I reach under my boot and slip out one of the knives I keep hidden. It’s one of many. Throwing it into her cell, her body freezes. “Slit down your wrist, not across.” Then I turn back around and head to cell seven. A man in a pool of blood wheezing on his back is laying on the ground. Unlatching the cell lock, I walk in and slam it shut behind myself. I’m not in a real torturing kind of mood; I’m in a killing kind of mood.
MILLIE
I’m walking out of my bedroom when Miles lands on the top of the stairway with a cheesy grin on his face. “Morning, sister!”
“You confuse me, Miles.” I close the door and slowly walk towards him with my hands on my hips. “One minute you’re this serious brooding security—” I flick my hands around, “Whatever you are. Then the next, you’re this playful, not so serious… man.”
I pause a foot in front of him and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Hot man, though?”
“I have no idea what is going on here because Raze won’t tell me anything, but can you? What’s he planning, Miles?”
A door opens behind me and Miles flicks his eyes over my shoulder. His jaw sets to stone and his eyes harden. Suddenly I’m glad I’m not on the receiving end of that glare.
“Ew, get a room.” I turn to see Cassia walk out with her silk night gown tied around her waist.
“Get in your room, Cassia.”
Her eyes narrow. “Miles, I don’t take orders from you.”
Miles firmly but gently pushes me to the side and walks towards her slowly. His body tenses with each step his lean stature takes. “You do now. Get the fuck in your room and only leave to get food and then you go back to your room to eat it. For as long as Millie is here.”
Wait, what?
Cassia pulls her arm out of his grip. “Oh, I see what’s going on here. You’re playing with Raze’s new fuck toy. You know Raze doesn’t like his toys touched by anyone else, Miles.”
“No,” Miles states, stepping towards her, causing her body to inch backward. “I’m not to touch her. You, on the other hand,” Miles says, his head dipping to her ear, “I can play with as I please.” His hands fly up to the wall behind her, caging her head in between them. “And you know how I tend to break all my toys, Cassia.” Cassia’s hands fly up to Miles’ chest.
A laugh escapes me and I quickly cover my mouth with my hand. “Sorry, it’s just I don’t really care, Miles. She can do what she wants.”
