Page 207 of Boys Who Hunt

They both laugh.

So the guy who orchestrated all this definitely isn’t after the money … but after her.

“You think the girl will come back?”

“Maybe. Looks like she left in a hurry.”

And I’m fucking glad she did because these fuckers would’ve found her by now.

“Let’s leave a note just in case.”

“Why?”

“Ivan said she’ll definitely have more up her sleeve, and he wants to force her to give up.”

Ivan? Who the fuck is Ivan?

Is that the guy who’s after her?

I approach the door, listening carefully as they plant some kind of paper on the kitchen table.

“Let’s go.”

That’s my cue.

I fish my knives out of my pockets and move away from the hiding spot, slowly coming into view as those fuckers exit the door and freeze while the grin on my face spreads from ear to ear.

“Who the fuck are you?” the guy on the left asks.

“Why the fuck is he smiling like that?” the one on the right whispers, but I heard.

I flick both knives in my hands. “Do you think the devil cried or laughed when he took unsuspecting souls back to hell?” The angered looks on their faces makes the thought of slicing them open from top to bottom even more enticing. “Now who’s first?”

CHAPTER 50

Ivy

Tonight is the night.

I wait until everyone is sleeping. Then I sneak from room to room, hall to hall, until I find what I’m looking for: A bed and a little girl still deep in her slumber while hugging her cat. I drag her out of bed and shake her to wake her up quickly, but nothing feels real, not even the way she looks at me. Her tiny hand sits snugly in mine as I bolt off with her and the cat through the endless hallways.

But the walls feel like they’re caving in on me, and the doors feel endless.

I pause and shush her silently while we wait for a guard to pass the stairs so we can sneak past.

“Let’s go,” I whisper, but my voice sounds muffled in the void.

I pull her along while holding the cat tightly, and we head through the corridor and down the stairs into the garage.

“Ivy!”

A loud voice echoes through the hallways, and the light fixtures flicker.

Over and over again, the voice booms from ear to ear as it gets closer and closer while sweat begins to drip down my neck.

I hold the girl closer as I run toward the only bike in the garage, put her on the seat together with the cat, and jump on.

Get out, get out, get out.