His eyes shift downward.

At first I think he can’t see me. And then his expression morphs though several different phases. Shock. Grimace. Anger.

And then nothing.

We open our mouths at the same time, but only he speaks. “I’ll never tell,” he says, looking me straight in the eye.

What? Is he talking to me?

One of the guys kicks him in the ribs and he spits out more blood. This time it clings to the rusty grate and drips down.

Please, God, I pray. Please don’t let me be caught here with these men.

“I won’t tell,” he says in a low voice. “I won’t tell.”

“You’ll tell, asshole. Because we’re gonna beat the living shit out of you if you don’t,” one of the other guys says.

“They ransacked the baby’s room, but I cleaned it up as best I could,” he chokes out. And then he whispers so softly I almost miss it. “I swear it was an accident. I swear to God, it was an accident.”

He is talking to me. I sink back against the wall and try to hold my tears in.

“Yeah, yeah, your dead baby’s room. We’ve already heard about it. Now you either tell us where the shit is, Jon, or we’ll go get that little raven of yours next. And if she thinks what you did to her was bad, she’s in for a surprise. I have a guy in Columbia who’ll pay a half a million for a girl like her. I can pick her up and have her sold before anyone knows she’s gone. We’ve got her boyfriend in jail, and she’s on the run from the other two, just like we planned. Hell, they might not even miss her. Might just figure she moved on and found a new place to hide.”

Jon coughs again and more blood comes up. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes, again so low it almost doesn’t exist. He stops for a moment, his eyes still looking down at me. “I’m sorry. You’ll just have to kill me, boys.” And then his gaze finds the iPhone in a hazy beam of light that slips past his body and hits it in just such a way as to create a glint. He smiles for a moment, the blood spilling out of his mouth, and I quickly reach out and move the phone slightly just as Jon rolls himself over.

“It’s not here, Agent Abelli,” he says loudly. Plenty loud for the phone camera to pick up the name. “I gave it to the media, so just do what you want, I’ve got nothing to give you. Nothing at all.”

I close my eyes and put my fingers in my ears after that. They beat him, they kick him, they lift up his head and crack it against the grate so hard pieces of blood and bone from his cheek spray down on me.

His screams fill the basement and then, gradually, they turn to moans.

And even though I spent years wishing I could make him writhe in pain like that, it brings me no comfort.

I hate this. I hate everything about this. It makes me sick.

But I’m forced to listen for what seems like an eternity as they pummel him, knock him unconscious, bring him back, and then do it again. Until finally, he’s unable to be brought back and there is a moment of heavy silence when everyone realizes it’s over.

“Shoot him to make sure he’s dead then burn this place down. I’ll be in the car,” the Abelli voice says as he walks away. “If he’s hidden anything here, it’ll all go up in flames.”

That Abelli guy doesn’t even make it to the basement stairs before the gunshot rings out and pieces of Jon splatter down into the hole.

I clamp my hand over my mouth and close my eyes tight as the smell of gasoline fills the basement.

I wait for the whoosh of flame and then the heavy footsteps of the other man going back upstairs. I frantically push against the grate so I can climb out, but Jon’s body is in the way.

My breath starts coming in ragged gasps as the smoke fills the basement and I start to panic, my chest hitching as I try to take in air and push against Jon’s body. I’m ready to give up when I think of Ronin’s words the last time I saw him. Don’t panic, Gidget.

Calm down, Rook, and push for fuck’s sake!

I get to my feet, still crouched down, and push my shoulder up against the grate.

It moves, barely, but it moves. So I do it again and Jon’s body rolls a little. I do it again and again and again.

And finally the grate flips on its side.

I reach up, push the grate across the floor, and then shove Jon’s body until he’s clear of the hole in the floor. I’m so filled with adrenaline and fear trying to make my escape, I almost forget the phone and everything I came for. I grab the key from my pocket and try my best to steady my shaking hand as I insert it into the lock. For a second it refuses to engage and I swear to God, I almost have a panic attack. My whole plan flashes before my eyes and I feel the crush of defeat.

Keep calm, Gidget. Don’t panic. Ronin’s voice in my head soothes me and I take a deep breath, push the key in farther and feel it click into place. I turn it and swing the metal door of the safe open.

I scan the contents then stuff all of it inside my jacket pocket and pull myself back up into the basement. The smoke is so thick I can’t even see the stairs and the flames are too high that way to even consider escaping. I panic again.

No, be still.

“How will I get out?” I ask Ronin’s voice in my head. I look over at the window, already coughing and gasping as the thick smoke penetrates into my lungs. But it’s just one of those small basement windows. And this house is too old to have a window well as a fire escape. My eyes dart around, panic starting to consume me again, when I spy the coal chute. And then I’m lifting up the metal door and shoving myself inside.

The negative pressure from outside sucks the fire in my direction and the flames are nipping at my boots before I’m even halfway up.

I scream from the heat and then the outside chute opens, forcing the flames to lick up against my legs even higher. Two hands reach down to grab my wrists. It never even occurred to me that those bad guys might still be around, but it’s too late now.

The hands pull me up with force and then the fresh air rushes into my lungs and the heat on my legs is replaced with cool autumn air.

I land in a heap at the feet of some biker boots.

And when I look up Spencer Shrike is shaking his head at me. “I’m gonna tell Ronin what you did and he’s gonna spank the shit out of you for this.”

I pat my jacket as he lifts me up and pulls me back towards the woods. “I have so much proof,” I cough out as I half-limp, half-run from the burning pain in my lower legs as Spence and I make our way through the nature preserve.

And when I look back at the burning house I realize something…

All my old demons are going up in flames with that piece-of-shit place.

I’m finally free to fight another battle.

And I’ve got a team to help me. 

Chapter Thirty-Eight - ROOK

Spencer and I trek all the way back through the woods, me coughing so hard I keep looking around to make sure no one is gonna come kill us because I can’t be quiet.

“Don’t worry, Rook, Ford’s just up ahead with the van. He’s got your bike loaded and I saw those assholes back there leave, we’re cool.”

“How’d you know where I was?”

He chuckles and grabs my arm hard, saving me from a nasty fall that could’ve made the pain in my burned legs unbearable after I trip over a tree root. “I put a tracker on your bike and your jacket. You’re not gonna get away from us that easy, chick. We’re a team, remember?”

“But you’re not allowed to help.”

He glares down at me for a moment and then the hard expression in his eyes softens a little. “We have rules for a reason, Rook. You could’ve really fucked things up. You could’ve been killed, you could’ve—”

“OK, I get it. But Spencer—” I stop and pull on his leather jacket to make him stop with me. “If you knew what I got out of that house you wouldn’t be angry with me.”