Page 66 of Buried in Blood
And soon?
Even they’ll be gone.
Idouble-check the keys clipped to my belt. One for each cuff. One for each gate. One for each compartment. I pat them twice. Then a third time. My hands are shaking.
Not with fear.
With adrenaline.
This is it.
This is the move that puts me beyond reach.
I stalk down the east corridor, the boots of my guards echoing behind me. They know better than to speak. Even Reese is quiet, his usual cocky grin replaced by a clenched jaw. He knows what’s at stake if this goes sideways.
“Everyone ready?” I ask, voice low.
“Yes, sir,” Enrique says, already checking the cuffs on Anya’s wrists.
She’s gagged. Good. That one likes to scream.
Brooke stands behind her, dazed, loyal, a ghost in her own skin. She doesn’t flinch as Enrique pulls her by the arm toward the rear vehicle.
Harmony watches it all from the top of the stairs, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. I don’t let my gaze linger.
She already knows.
I slide the door open to my personal transport—black SUV, no plates, no markings. I’ve swapped it three times over the past week, just in case. The floor is padded. The windows are blacked out. And in the trunk? Three girls, sedated, wrists zip-tied, ankles shackled, mouths taped.
Perfect.
I double-check the vials. Just enough to keep them quiet, but not kill them.
I load the final girl myself, brushing her hair back before sealing the hatch.
“Reese, south route. Enrique, ninety-four. You leaveafterme. Ten-minute gaps between every departure.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And remember,” I say, stepping closer to Reese, “no heroics. If someone is tailing you, don’t drive faster. You don’t try to outsmart them. You call me. You follow protocol. We lose one, we all lose.”
He nods.
I glance toward the sky. Still no sun. Still no sounds. Just wind rustling dead leaves across the cracked pavement like whispers in a chapel.
I climb into the driver’s seat and slam the door shut.
The silence inside is maddening.
The girls don’t move in the back. Good. I crank the engine and roll out slowly, tires crunching over gravel, heart pounding like a war drum. The gates open on motion sensors, then slam shut behind me.
And I’m off.
Out.
Alone.
The plan is perfect.
