Page 92 of Reaper & Ruin
He didn’t hesitate, nodding tightly as I got to my feet.
The room was frustratingly bare. The walls were painted a neutral beige, a color so dull it was almost insulting. But there had to be something.
After another pointless sweep, Atlas and I shoved the bed aside. It was heavier than it looked, its old wooden frame creaking ominously, but it shifted just enough to reveal the scuffed floor beneath. My eyes caught a faint line, barely visible in the dim light filtering through the blinds.
“There,” I said, crouching down and running my fingers along the edge of a loose floorboard. The wood wobbled slightly under my touch. “What do you think? Hidden treasure?”
He arched a brow, crouching beside me. “There’s only one way to find out.”
I pulled out the scissors from the medical kit, wedging the tiny blades into the thin gap. With a bit of effort, the floorboard popped up, revealing a small safe embedded in the ground.
“Jackpot,” I muttered, glancing at Atlas. His lips twitched in what might’ve been a smile, but it was gone as fast as it appeared.
The safe was an old combination lock style, nothing too fancy. Atlas knelt beside me, cracking his knuckles before getting to work on the lock. It didn’t take him long—he was eerily efficient; the numbers clicking into place with an ease that told me he had done this many times before.
When the safe door swung open, I leaned closer, the sight inside sparking a low whistle from me. “Well, well, well. Looks like someone was planning for a rainy day.”
Inside were a couple of knives, small but sharp, and two pistols. A handful of bullets were nestled beside the guns, alongwith several wads of cash. A couple of passports and driving licenses made up the lot.
“Not bad,” Atlas murmured, taking one of the pistols and checking its chamber with practiced ease before he stuck it in the back of his jeans and handed me the other to do the same. “Looks like an escape box.”
I grabbed the knives, slipping one into my boot and handing the other to Atlas. Then I pocketed the cash, stuffing it into his pocket. “Lunch money,” I joked, glancing at him. “If we live through this, I’m buying pizza on Danika’s dime.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, but his attention was already shifting. He stood, tucking the pistol into the back of his waistband as he grabbed the knives and headed into the bathroom.
“If this doesn’t work and I die, I need you to do me a favor.” He started twisted the knife against his collar, messing with wires and things that I hoped would not get him killed. “Make sure you keep Heaven happy. I don’t want her sad. And I want her to have that other dog. And all my videos. So she can see us together again.”
“I’m not talking of this.” I shook my head. “You’re not going to die. You’ve done worse before than cut a few wires and—”
There was a snap.
A hiss.
Then his collar fell to the floor, and he grinned at me. “You were right. I am a god.”
“Not quite my words.” I snorted as he went to work on my collar for a few moments, until mine fell away too.
We both grinned at each other, armed up and ready.
“Let’s get out of here, then.” I said.
We moved to the door, our steps careful. But our wary turned out to be pointless. Before we’d bent to the door’s lock,shouts and gunfire cracked through the air downstairs, loud enough to make the floor shake.
“What the fuck is that?” I wondered as Atlas quickly pulled out the two blades and inserted them into the lock. A few seconds later, the faint sound of tumblers clicking echoed in the quiet room, followed by a soft metallic creak as the door swung open.
We exchanged a glance, both of us tense, before stepping out into the hallway as the house turned silent downstairs.
Atlas led the way, his movements almost predatory. I could see how easily he slipped back into his training, as he blended with the shadows until he truly was a part of them. I followed close behind, the gun now in my hand, clutched tight as we descended the stairs. Only when we reached the main room, I froze entirely.
Blood.
It was everywhere.
The floor was slick with it, dark red pooling around lifeless bodies strewn across the room like discarded dolls. Random men—half a dozen of them—were dead. Their wide, unseeing eyes stared up at nothing, their faces frozen in expressions of shock or pain.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathed, my stomach churning as I wondered if this was part of Danika’s game, or if something had gone horribly wrong.
Atlas was just as still beside me, his jaw tight, and his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes swept over the carnage, taking in every detail with a cold precision that sent a chill down my spine.
