Page 80 of Creep
A choked grunt escapes my lips when the springs of the old mattress punch me in the back, and I blink several times, trying to focus as Domino opens his belt.
My mind’s empty, as if he’s beaten any doubts, fears, and worries from my head with that one punch, but as he’s kicking off his boots, a loud ringing tears through the silence, echoing in my skull.
A twisted grimace passes over Domino’s features, but he plucks the phone out of his pocket and picks up the call. For me, this means a few minutes of peace, which I’m grateful for even if he’s about to punish me for whatever’s making him sneer while he listens.
I shudder when he roars the moment the phone conversation’s over, fully prepared for a kick in the stomach, but instead he jabs his foot at the side of the mattress in helpless wrath.
“You better be naked and ready when I’m back,” he roars and walks off like the embodiment of fury. I hear each of his angry footsteps, and even theclickof the lock sounds like the key’s about to snap from the force Domino’s putting into twisting it in the hole.
Out of all the hopeless moments in my life, this one’s the worst, but I trust in Creed. If there’s the slightest chance I can walk out of here, it’ll be thanks to him.
Chapter 31
Creed
DoIknowforsure that Domino snatched Angel? No. But do I feel certain of it down to the marrow of my bones? Absolutely.
He looked like shit at the club meet. Pupils blown, bruised face, and I swear the blood on his knuckles seemed fresh. I was ready to rip him to shreds in front of everyone just based on my hunch. And yet, I had to ignore my nature and wait. At least I wasn’t expected to talk. Prophet handled that part. Even the pretense under which we had this urgent meeting went over my head because I was too busy analyzing every minute detail about Domino.
Now I’m on the road, following him at a distance, and fortunately he makes that easy thanks to his bike being so loudand obnoxious. I’ve got a tracker on me, so my brothers can catch up later. All of them wouldn’t be able to stay stealthy, and I swear, if anyone blows my cover, I will rage.
I’d attempt sneaking up on him, grabbing him, then torturing the information out, but there’s too many variables involved in such a plan. Domino is lodged far in the closet, he might not tell me shit, and if Angel is held somewhere with no way out, he could end up dead by the time I find him. I can’t risk that. I can only hope Domino will lead me straight to him.
I fall back, because even this meathead might have enough brains left to notice he’s being followed, but I choose the right direction at crossroads each time, simply following the farting of his bike. We’ve ventured away from all the towns I know, deeper into the forested areas, and I don’t know what to expect. Does Domino have a cabin out here? Or did he just claim some old house or… cave? That’s what I did, and I wouldn’t put it past him either. My heart flutters when the hum ahead dies, and I kill my own engine. The last of the day’s sun floods the area with red light from a clearing up ahead, so I slide off my lightweight bike and run, propelling it with me.
I leave it where the tunnel of trees ends and slide into the bushes, eyes fixed on the bright light. I blink to adjust my vision and peer through the leaves to see vegetation reclaiming an area that must have previously been cleared of trees. Beyond it, on the background of a rocky hill is a huge wooden structure. It must have been abandoned years ago, since the facade is deteriorating, and I even spot holes in the roof, but it still stands, its mouth wide open for shipments of whatever product used to be processed here.
Domino is already off his bike, and I want to run there, choke him to death and make sure Angel is safe, but I have to keep my cool when I stalk closer to the factory that seems to be a home for rust and mold.
When I see him venture inside, I move faster, dash out of the bushes and then sneak along the shadows cast by the wall. My mind is messing with me because I swear I smell blood, and that’s impossible. I want to follow him inside, my heart beating like mad, but I hear locks closing, and when I reach the heavy door through which he entered, it’s like facing a steel wall. This door isn’t some rotting wood I could crack with a few well-positioned kicks. It’s new, it’s sturdy, and fitted with a lock I don’t know how to pick.
I put my ear against it, but all the noise I hear is muffled. How deep does the rabbit hole go? And if Angel is in there, Domino could kill him if provoked. I’ve known him for long enough to bank on that. The man would kill Angel even just to spite me, so no one else could have him. If I go about this rescue mission incorrectly, a split second will stand between Angel and death.
If he’s in there, of course. I swear he must be—
The proof I needed is resting in the dirt. A part of me hoped I was wrong. I would have died of heartache if Angel really did ghost me, but I would have preferred that to him suffering at Domino’s hand.
There is no more place for delusion when I pick up the patch with my nickname. It has been ripped off so roughly a piece of leather is still attached to it. It’s from Angel’s property vest.
He must be inside.
I can’t just barge in there, shoot the lock or something. But could noise lure Domino out? Could I shoot at his bike? Try to get his number from Prophet and call him?
Were Angel’s life not on the line, those would all be valid options, but nothing matters more than saving my boy. If Angel dies here, Domino might as well shoot me too.
I step away from the building and take it in. Only the base of the structure is made of brick, and a brief survey of the locked entrance tells me it leads underground, so I make myway around the factory, finally spotting a tiny window where foundations meet soil.
My heart is racing against time remaining until Angel might get seriously hurt, but I’ll achieve nothing if I set off the alarms in Domino’s head. Instead of knocking on the window or shoving my entire face against the dusty glass, I lower my body and peek in through the brown-and-gray film created by years of neglect. I can barely see a couple of shadows. They look like storage shelves piled with all kinds of items, but I can’t see anything beyond them.
Frustrated, I cover my hand with the sleeve of my jacket and rub it against the glass. I’m relieved when some of the dirt crust thins, revealing the basement. I swear I see movement, so it’s not impossible Angel and Domino are right there, beyond this tiny window.
“What are we doing?” someone whispers right behind me, and I have to bite my tongue, but a split second later my brain understands the voice I’m hearing belongs to Rooster.
I turn to him, eyes wide and put a finger to my lips, but I have to give it to Rooster that he approached me silently.
I gather my thoughts, trying to work out how to make use of my ally when Angel’s voice reaches me like the cry of a canary deep in the mine. He’s screaming. Needs my help. He’s all alone with this madman, and I need to act now. Domino could be hurting Angel at this very moment. I can’t waste time and wait until everyone else arrives.
Rooster’s face is shadowed by the growing darkness, but I still see none of the usual cockiness in his expression. He must have heard the scream as well.
