Page 89 of King of Cruelty

“Hurry up!” I screamed at the panel telling me the elevator was only on level six.

Once I have the flash drive, I’ll separate the lock from the key. Without the flash drive, the Brotherhood can’t steal money from their rich brothers, murder their poor brothers, and fake their deaths before stealing the Merchants’ empire.

It’s not enough to save my guys, but it’ll put a serious knot in Debra’s plan, and she’ll have to play by my rules to unravel it.

The elevator dinged, finally letting me on board. I rode it to Liam’s floor, then burst out—tearing across the hall.

With the security disabled, his front door swung open at my touch, not even faking a fight. I shut it behind, then peered around the cluttered, but clean space.

Elizabeth’s toys scattered about the living room. Her crayons and scribbled pictures dominated the coffee table, her stuffies were plenty comfy on the couch and armchair, and her—

I choked, seeing her blue cup poking out from beside the armchair. The half-drunk remains of her unicorn smoothie had melted together to form a purplish-grayish mush. A mush that clearly revealed a little girl had been in the middle of drinking it before her father picked her up and rushed her away.

Liam never would’ve left that sitting there all night. He lied to Debra. Tricky is hiding in the Fairfield—

I darted into the living room, snatching up the cup and tossing it into the sink.

—and Debra cannot know that.

I rinsed it out and threw it in the dishwasher. Heart racing, I skidded back into the living room, scooped up her drawings, and swept her crayons into the coffee table drawer.

Sunny may not have informed me of all the security measures, but Liam did. Unlike Deb-Deb, I knew exactly where Tricky was.

She was hiding in the panic room concealed behind her closet. The same room Liam showed me, and told me to hide in with Laurel if anything ever happened.

The panic room was the size of a bedroom itself. It was well stocked with nonperishable food and juice boxes, it had a little bed for her to sleep in, there were plenty of toys for her to play with, there was a fully functional bathroom and shower, and it even had a television. An introvert could hide out in there for two weeks, and think they died and went to heaven.

The trouble was that if the security was gone for the entire building, it was gone for the panic room too. Normally, afterTricky went inside, no one but Liam would be able to enter the code to open the door to let her out. Without the computer-controlled locks, that door... was just a door.

Nothing could stop Tricky from walking right out, and nothing would stop Debra from going right in.

I made for the hallway, reached the door to Liam’s room, then blew right past it.

Debra wasn’t getting her hands on that girl. If she tried, I had a feeling I’d have no trouble accessing my homicidal maniac side.

I burst into Tricky’s room and went straight for her closet. Throwing aside her clothes, I found the little notch in the wood that opened the panel. I pried it open, revealing a metal door about as tall and wide as a kitchen island. Big enough for an adult or child to crawl in.

Beneath the metal latch was a keypad. Going by my hunch, I tugged on the latch and the door gave way, swinging into the panic room.

“Tricky?” I crouched down, sticking my head inside. “Are you here, sweetie? Everything’s going to be—”

I lifted my chin, and my nose bonked against the cold nip of the muzzle.

Chapter Ten

Sienna

Selfie Bitch flew in—the neon-red bump on her forehead as stark and glaring as the murder in her eyes.

“Good little hiding spot.” Her gun flew up. “But not good enough.”

Selfie Bitch screeched—wide, cloudy eyes rolling in her head. She choked on a sob, weakly pounding and clawing at the arm around her throat.

The tall, glamourous woman dragging her around by the neck dug the muzzle deeper into her temple. “You should’ve tossed that phone the minute you realized you were being followed, Sienna Blaine,” she continued, chatting to my bugged eyes and hanging jaw. “That’s most likely how they found you, because it’s how I found you.

“Speaking of...”

She shook Selfie Bitch, jiggling her beneath her ample bosom. Even without the gun, she was an intimidating figure. Her long, waist-length braids started black at the roots, but turned bloodred as they flowed to her tips. Knee-length boots balanced on knife-tipped heels, and I wasn’t kidding. Her stilettos were literal blades—honed to kill with a single kick.

---