Page 77 of Scarred Sins
“Blair,’’ he murmurs, my name rolling off his tongue like the sweetest melody, permanently engraved in my chest. His head falls on my shoulder, burying his face in the crook of my neck. He inhales deeply, arms wrapping around my waist. He hugs me tightly, like he never wants to let go.
“Yes?” I whisper.
“How could you even think I’d want another woman when my perfect woman is right here, sitting on my lap and fitting perfectly against me? It’s like you were made for me, butterfly. To be all mine.’’
I swallow, softly cupping his face and pulling him off my shoulder, looking into his eyes.
“Maybe I was,’’ my voice is barely above a shaky whisper, my thumbs stroking his cheeks. “Maybe it was some sinister fate that brought us together. But all I know is that I won’t be leaving. Ican’tlive. In such a short amount of time, you’ve managed to make me feel safer, more protected, and more needed than I’ve ever felt. How could I possibly ever leave?”
His eyes widened a fraction at my sudden admission, his hold on me tightening.
“You can’t take that back,’’ he warns. “I won’t let you ever take it back.’’
I smile softly and place my lips against his.
I don’t want him to let me take it back, either.
TWENTY-TWO
Ipark my bike a few streets down, not wanting to cause a disturbance. I hide it behind a couple of cars, and it’s ready for me to pick it up and run off, and undoubtedly, I’ll need to run if the night turns sour.
The helmet comes off, and I put on a black mask on my face, hiding my white hair and my face. I even put in some brown contact lenses to hide my identity. One chance. That’s all I’ve got. One fucking chance, and if I blow it, I’ll likely blow everything else as well.
I’m not surprised Zoe’s been relocated to a different manor. This one is in a more crowded neighborhood. It’s a smart move because every single one of these gigantic manors has cameras all around; hence, he’ll easily catch intruders.
Sadly for him, I’m quite skilled in hacking.
With a press of a button on my phone, every single camera in the neighborhood will stop working. I have a fifteen-minute window, and I cannot miss it. I steel myself for what’s about to come, my brain filled with thoughts on how to approach the situation.
I loom close to the gated manor, checking for security. I sit behind a bush, scrolling through the phone, watching the cameras. Four guards outside and at least another four inside. I could easily shut off the power and get myself inside, but if he has – and he likely has – a backup alarm, the sirens will go off and they’ll remove Zoe.
The odd thing is that I couldn’t find an outline of the house. I’m going in this completely blind. But I don’t care. Blair needs revenge. I need to know where Luna is and what happened to her. I’m holding onto the smallest bits of hope that somehow, Luna is alive. But if she’s not… I’ll burn the bastards to the ground, inch by inch, tear them apart, limb by limb, then put them back together and do it all over again.
I shake off my thoughts and take a deep breath. I reach the gate, swift on my feet – just like a ghost – unnoticed and unseen. I press the button on my phone, disabling cameras for fifteen minutes. Next, I’m quick to disable the gate and open it ever so slightly, enough to squeeze myself through the small gap.
My feet carry me quickly, doing my best to go unnoticed entirely. I hold my breath, the gun in my pocket itching to be used on the bastards my eyes lay on. The guards are by the front door. Two of them are eating; the other two are supposedly working, though that’s not what I’m seeing. All I’m seeing are four incompetent fools being paid for a job they’re failing at.
I can’t pass by them and enter through the main door without killing them, which isn’t an option. Instead, I make my way to the back of the house, my feet soft on the muddy grass. It stopped raining only an hour ago, and the scent of fresh rain still lingers in the air.
With only one option, I sigh and start climbing like I’m some sort of modern Tarzan. Right now, I’m beyond grateful for the little trip Dad sent me on when I was sixteen. Well, he called it a trip. I called it a fucking nightmare.
He sent me to a deserted island with nothing but a knife and a gun with one clip. That’s it. I was there for three weeks and had to learn how to climb up the trees, how to survive in terrible weather conditions, and how to hunt for my own food. It was pure fucking torture, but it gave me life-lasting skills that I wouldn’t have learned otherwise.
There’s not much to grab onto, but somehow, I make it work. At times, I think I have more luck than brains, because who the fuck would be attempting to climb up a balcony of a wealthy politician at three in the morning on a Saturday? It doesn’t help that my shoes are slippery from the mud.
Once I reach the top, I take a deep breath. Quickly, I pull out the small lock-picking set, working as silently as possible to break in. It takes me a while, since I haven’t done this in well over a year, and when I hear a small click, I sigh out in relief.
I take a step inside, leaving the door slightly ajar. This is the second floor, and there are at least two more. Not a single sound could be heard, and even my breathing is as silent as possible. I open every door I see, praying no one’s inside. Most are just bedrooms, bathrooms, or some studies, but they’re rather empty, barely having anything except basic furniture.
Looks like Nelson Adams was in a rush to move here.
The motherfucker could move to Mars, and even there, he won’t escape me.
The third floor is more or less the same; no one’s in sight. At one point, I started wondering if my insights were incorrect. I had people follow Adams discreetly, and they found this place and definitely saw Zoe entering it. I even have images to prove it, with timestamps. She hadn’t left the place until I arrived, meaning she’s somewhere here.
It’s not until I reach the top floor that I halt. There are still no guards around; however, one door is opened ajar, with a lamp flickering on the inside. I push it a little bit more, a soft creaking sound causing me to halt immediately.
“Who’s there?”
