Page 63 of Out for Blood
She snorts dryly. “I was never really built for Netflix and chill anyway.”
My head falls back as laughter erupts out of me.
“See?” I hover closer, running my fingertips along the sensitive line of her collarbone before claiming the back of her neck with my hand.
“This is why I had to keep you. Cheapest date I’ve ever had.”
She dissolves into laughter until she’s hunched over, the sound finally chasing the last of the darkness from the car.
Then she reaches for my phone from the console and starts dialing the cleanup crew while we head toward the drop spot to ditch the car before finally going home.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tyler parks in the back lot of the gym early the next morning, long before sunrise. Gravel crunches beneath the tires as the neon sign above the entrance comes into view and is off.
I can feel the fury festering under my skin, searching for a way out, and this is the one place where I can let it loose.
Tyler already understood the moment he took one look at me and didn’t hesitate in grabbing the keys when I told him where I needed to go.
Many would never guess there’s a fully private gun range hidden underneath the gym.
Or that getting inside takes the kind of access money alone usually can’t buy.
Leonardo keeps the existence of it concealed. No advertisements. No public memberships. Invitation only.
Security contractors. Mercenaries. Elite military. Private clients with blood on their hands and enough money to make questions disappear.
The parking lot sits completely empty.
No members filtering in before work, no staff, witnesses, or distractions.
Leonardo shut theentire gym down for us.
Tyler kills the engine while the building sits mysteriously still around us.
The silence wraps densely around me because the darkness from last night still hasn’t left my system.
We walk through the door and give Leonardo a small wave as we head to the back of the gym, where a metal door guarded by keypad access rests.
I punch in the code, and we head down the stairwell. As soon as the heavy metal door seals shut behind Tyler and me, the sound sends a chill through my body.
The air smells like burnt powder, oil, sweat, and metal. The scent sticks to the back of my throat as Tyler carries two black tactical bags farther into the range.
I flex my fingers once, then again.
Working to suppress the aftermath from last night wrapping around my thoughts.
The man being skinned.
The people being treated like nothing but inventory. The organ harvesting and trafficking.
Revulsion burns through my stomach like acid, and I battle the gags working up my throat.
Replayingjackinthebox149’s screams while the version of me, the weaponized part, stood there shockingly unfazed.
Possibly the worst part wasn’t the screams.
Perhaps it was how calm I felt listening to them.
