Page 24 of Betting Blind

“Nine,” I retort automatically before pressing my lips into a tight line. Damn it. He knows that I can’t stand when peopledon’t get the details right. Fuck. I close my eyes and fight the memory that is threatening to surge forward. “You know I do,” I whisper through clenched teeth and open my eyes. His fingers squeeze my upper arm, and my eyes immediately shift to the group of men still playing poker.

Hayden’s eyes are on me. His chin is tilted up and his jaw is set. He’s clenching his teeth, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he is fighting every urge to lunge forward and pull Hector away from me. He’s barely touched me and he’s already fighting to claim me. I smile and wink at him. He smirks and looks back at the cards in his hand. Truly, he’s making this too easy for me.

“Now I’m going to have to take my meds tonight and pray I don’t have any nightmares.” I duck under Hector’s arm and pat his chest twice. “Thanks for that, you asshole.”

“I just had to watch you get eye fucked. And you liked it,” he hisses under his breath, and I grin broadly at him. “And you’re not even trying to deny it.”

“Like calls to like, darling. His crazy might just fit mine.” I call over my shoulder and wave my hand, throwing the finger at him as I walk away.

“If that’s the case, heaven help us all,” he calls after me with a groan, but I can hear the smile in his voice. My eyes cut down to the message in my hand. The phone screen glowing like a beacon in the darkness.

There’s no way I can go home right now. I’m too keyed up to function on basic human needs at this point. I need to find somewhere to expel all this excess energy, and I know just the place for that. “I think we all know that they aren’t going to be helping us any time soon,” I whisper to myself as I pull on my helmet and cut through the silence of the night with the powerful roar of my bike engine.

Chapter 15

Hayden

“I have a job for you,” Declan says once we’re back at the house. He leans against the door frame with his arms folded and one ankle crossed over the other. “It should be an in and out. I know you need to blow off steam. You’ve been fidgeting since we left the casino.”

“No offense, but that isn’t really how I want to blow off this excess energy,” I mutter and try to shoulder past him.

Declan stands firm and drops a hand to my shoulder. “This girl has really gotten under your skin, and I need you to dig her out. I need focus for this job. No distractions.”

“I am focused,” I snap and shrug him off. If he touches me again, I cannot be held responsible for the number of fingers that I might break. “No distractions.” I can’t bear the thought of admitting that he’s right. My leg didn’t stop jiggling the entire ride home, and even now my thumbnail is flicking against the pocketknife in my pocket.

“Hayden,” he says sternly and places his hand back on my shoulder. He squeezes my shoulder hard until I meet his gaze with a murderous glare. I’m already contemplating which finger to start with. “There will be guns, blood, and murder.”

“Well, why the fuck didn’t you start with that, Dec?” I smirk at him, but I know that it doesn’t touch the glint in my eyes. “Send me the details. I’m going to go get my gear.”

“I’ll text it to you. Have fun reaping,” Declan waves over his shoulder before his thumbs glide across his screen.

I smile a little wider now as I stalk down the hallway to our supply closet. Silas flattens himself against the wall to make room as I pass. “Don’t wait up. I’ll be home by sunrise.”

I drown out their muffled conversation as I pull out a black duffle bag and start loading up the essentials. Ammo. Small Guns. Large Guns. Extra magazines. More ammo. A hunting knife. Some grenades. A bottle of Gatorade and a bag of cheese puffs. In case I get peckish while divesting people of their souls.

“I’m out!” I shout as I push through the back door and drape the bag over my shoulder. My helmet slides over my head and my playlist starts blasting through the Bluetooth as I straddle my bike and rocket into the darkness.

*****

The air is thick with muffled sobs and pleas for mercy as I creep through the shadows of the three-level warehouse. Most of the lights are nothing more than shattered bulbs, but a few loose bulbs swing from the rafters by electrical cords. The constant swinging makes for an eerie setting as the shadows writhe along the walls.

The first level of the warehouse had seven men sitting around a bank of security monitors. They were too easy to remove. I picked four of them off with bullets before they evenknew what was happening. The other three put up a fair fight, but they were no match for the tip of my blade.

Now I’m creeping down the main hallway on the second floor with a knife in one hand and a gun in the other, stalking. I can feel the blood spatter drying on my cheeks with each step I take, but I don’t bother to wipe my face. I prefer the war paint.

Before I make it to the stairwell at the end of the hall, chaos erupts from the third floor. I hear screaming, cursing, and gunfire. Then the building’s foundation trembles as an IED detonates somewhere above me.

“What the actual fuck is happening right now?” I mutter and dive into an office as the ceiling in the hallway crashes down. As the dust settles, I climb over the rubble and take note of the limbs protruding from the debris. Obviously, I’m not the only one that got this assignment. My temper flares because I don’t share, and these people were mine.

This is the second time someone has stolen a mark from me, and I’m starting to develop a complex about it.

The chaos above me rockets to another level as hysterical screaming and sobbing echoes off the walls. More gunfire explodes and I pause to listen. The bullets sound like they’re hitting drywall, metal, and occasionally soft flesh. Well fuck me, I’m missing all the fun!

I sheath my knife in the holster on my thigh and pull out a second gun. “Alright girls, let’s have some fun with these fuckers,” I whisper to the pistols in my hands and climb through the rubble and up to the top floor. The sight almost brings me to my knees.

Women are clawing to get out of cages, tears streaming down their dirty faces. Some of them have real clothes on, but some of them have nothing more than a dirty sheet wrappedaround their frail bodies. There are at least thirteen women up here, hysterical and desperate to get out of this prison that they have been in for God only knows how long.

“Please. Please let us out!” One screeches at me between hiccuping sobs. Her hands are shoved through the bars and waving madly around like I can’t see her.

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