Page 147 of Tormented
“This way then, men.” They trail after me as I lead them right of the grand staircase, toward my mother’s wing of the mansion. “Any of you fuckers bring the popcorn?”
A couple of chuckles sound behind me as I press an ear to the door that leads through to the servants’ break room. Lifting a finger to my lips, I turn the handle slowly and push the door open. The lights are out, probably in the hopes we’d think nobody was in here. But I catch the distinct sound of fear as a female hiccups in a ragged breath.
“We’re not here for you,” I call out, stepping into the cloakroom that leads through to the main lounge.
Don’t have time for this . . .
Settle down. The old man’s not going anywhere.
Jacob follows, rifle held at the ready across his mid-section as I step through the dark space. Alvarez and the other Devil’s Breed man stay behind, watching the corridor.
It takes us next to no time at all to find them: two maids crouched in the far corner behind an easy chair and side table. If we had been hostile, these girls would have been toast.
“Come on out,” I say. “We can see you.”
The more composed of the two slowly stands, reaching for the other’s hand. “Come.”
The sobbing mess at her feet stares wide-eyed at the two of us and bursts into tears. She rattles off something in her native tongue, way too fast for me to catch on.
“What’s she saying?” Jacob asks the other girl.
“She’s scared of you. Thinks you’re friends of the boss.”
I fight to contain my smile. “Quite the opposite. You’re safe to leave.” I jerk my head toward the corridor.
They make their way warily around the two of us, only for the scared one to cry out as they come across Alvarez and his buddy. The mouse rattles off another string of barely coherent words, but this time it’s not her workmate who settles her down, it’s Alvarez. He replies in kind, holding her shoulders and gesturing to the main entrance. She nods, eyes wide, hands clutched to the cross at her neck. He gives the girl a smile, and rubs his thumb across her cheek.
The braver of the two gives Jacob and me a small nod before she ushers the mouse toward the exit.
“Alvarez.”
He stands tall, turning to face me. “Yeah, boss?”
“Go with them, would you? Make sure they get out to the road and then find out if they have someone who can pick them up without askin’ questions. If not, call Vince and get him to arrange somethin’.”
He rubs a finger under his nose as he nods. “Yes, boss.”
I turn my head in the opposite direction and eye the double doors that lead into the north wing. My father’s the only person who’s ever been able to make me feel this way: nervous. Even on the day of his death, I still fight the insatiable longing to make him proud, impress him with what I’ve learnt, what I’ve taught myself.
You’ve been waiting for this day . . . .
Exactly. So why now, when I stand here literally feet from making my every fantasy a reality, do I freeze?
Believe in yourself, my devil whispers. You’ve practiced your whole life for this . . . .
I guess I have. Years of killing, of discovering what torture techniques make a man squirm greater than the rest; they’ve all led me to this moment, here and now.
“You good?” Jacob asks.
I nod, steeling my resolve and kicking my feet into action before I have another chance to let the words my father drilled into me over and over as a child, stop me.
Useless.
A disappointment.
Such an embarrassment.
A mistake.