Page 155 of Like Grim Death: Part One
The lighting keeps flickering, the ceiling is low, a few doors hang off their hinges and the numbers on them are peeling and faded. No one is going to bat an eye at a little breaking and entering in a place like this.
“Why do they own this place?” Sevryn asks quietly, shifting nervously on his feet behind me. His hood is still up and while he handled being shot at pretty well—maybe Maverick’s antics helped—now that we’re in here, he seems anxious. We all stop at the last door on the left, the numbers323curling up around the edges from their faux gold sticker.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Maverick glaring at Sevryn. Sevryn shrinks back, a step away from him. Smart move, considering Mav has a gun in his hand. “Stop asking fucking questions,” Mav snarls.
Ezra nudges me with his elbow, his back to me as he acts as lookout for any oncoming, unneeded interference. “Hurry up and get inside.”
Yeah. That’s exactly what I need to do.Hurry.I don’t know who fucking shot at us, and it very well could’ve been someone Boaz put in place to make our job that much harder. I’ll have to ask him when we meet up next. For now, I try to brush aside getting shot. When you were raised by the 6, it’s not so hard to do.
I glance at the door handle, a round, brass knob that’s seen better days. Dents and scuffs, not to mention fingerprints and something that looks suspiciously like chocolate is caked over it.
Reaching out, I try the easiest option first, grateful for my black leather gloves.
It’s locked though.
I crank it hard to the right, feeling the lock flex under the pressure. It still doesn’t give and I’m considering just kicking it in when the door suddenly pops open, flinging backward and granting us entry.
The scent of something sweet reaches my nose, like cookies or a cake. It’s warm in here too, the air wafting over me like a hug, considering the damp chill spreading in my bones from my wet hoodie.
I move my finger to the trigger of my gun, staring into the short entranceway. The tiles are clean, leading into a small kitchen, one line of cabinets, a white oven. There’s a fridge of the same color too, and a cluster of photos with magnets clinging to it, but I can’t discern who is in the pictures from here.
There are no doors leading off the short hallway, aside from this one.
I take a step inside, glancing at my brothers.
Ezra nods toward the corridor of the apartment and I return the gesture. He’s going to stay as lookout.
Maverick is behind Sevryn, who follows apprehensively as I swing my head back around and step inside, careful with my body weight so it doesn’t creak on the clean floor.
Once we’re all in, I hear the door click closed behind us and the strip of light from the outside hallway is gone.
My eyes find a living room, no table, no dining room. A thin, white curtain doing almost nothing to block out the city lights. But because of the glow, I see a tan sofa, a boxy television on a coffee table.
And something in the middle of the gray carpeted floor.
Frowning, I dart my gaze up, past the kitchen, toward the only other door in this house, and it’s pulled closed.
Lifting up one finger, I stay Mav and Sevryn as I head into the living room, squatting down to see the cluster of objects on the floor, between the couch and the TV.
My heart leaps to my throat when I realize what it is.
Cars. Little toy cars, shiny red roof on one, bulging fat tires on another, like it’s a monster truck. There are five of them arranged in a twisted circle, and my mind flashes to the way my brothers and I park our vehicles when we meet up to talk.
I blink, straightening to my full height as I take a deep breath, trying to stop the nausea overcoming me at the sight of toys in this house.
Turning back toward my brothers, I head silently over to the fridge, but I stop a foot from it, not daring to drag my eyes up to the photos stuck there with magnets.
It’s better if I don’t know.
It’s better if I don’t see, because no matter who this child is, I won’t choose them over Rain.
I swallow down the knot in my throat, and just as I look up, my eyes on the white door pulled closed, the one which must be the bedroom, it creaks open and a second later I hear an unfamiliar woman’s voice call out,“Finn, get back in bed.”
My entire world seems to stop.
White noise rushes to my ears, the room sways and tilts a little. I tighten my grip on the gun in my hand and distantly, I hear Maverick move toward me, but even when I sense him right behind me, I don’t react.
Finn.
