laughter grew out of control. “Stop it, you crazy bitch,” he commanded, but I didn’t give a damn about listening to him. I didn’t give a damn about anything at all in this fucking hell of a place. It could burn for all I cared, and I was starting to think it just might.
“What’s wrong with her?” Darla asked in alarm and I was glad that I was creeping them out. I hoped they were scared. I hoped they were freaking terrified and quaking in their damn boots. Because they should be. In fact, if they were smart, they’d turn tail and run for the goddamn hills before it was too late.
“Just go downstairs, find out what’s going on. I’ll watch her,” Jonas growled, and a flashlight on his phone illuminated as she hurried out of the room.
He swung it down to flare in my eyes and I scrunched them up against the punishing light. “Why are you laughing?” he demanded again, his features cast in shadow beyond the light and making him seem like a monster in the dark. But he was no monster, not in comparison to what was coming.
I let a wide smile pull at my lips as triumph pumped through my chest.
“Because the reapers of hell are here, Jonas,” I told him in a deadly whisper. “And they’ve come to collect your soul.”
T he funny thing about buildings which are locked down as tight as a duck's ass against intruders, is that all you have to do to breach the security is set the fire alarm off. I always thought that was dumb as fuck. I mean, yeah, someone could be trapped inside and need to get out or the firefighters could need to get in and all that shit. No one wants to burn to death, blah, blah, blah. But it seemed to me like they needed more counter measures in place against the prospect of some psychopath strolling up to their place of work and letting themselves in via the auto unlock system. I mean, honestly, they might as well have sent me an invitation and just opened up the front doors.
Sure, it wasn't a total guarantee that the door locks would be hooked up to the alarm. But in all the times Niall had taken me to break in to an office building or even an apartment block in the city, it had worked. It had to be a real fire though mind, not just some half-assed attempt at tripping the drill alarm. Real flames and real smoke and a real reaction from the security system to the threat. Then Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt and I’d be strolling right on in to their super secret evil lab. Because yeah, I was calling it an evil lab and if Saint had a problem with it, he could suck my balls.
So we required an honest to shit fire. And that was just fine by me.
"What's taking so long?" Monroe grumbled in my ear and I had half a mind to just tug the earpiece out and toss it aside.
Honestly, these assholes acted like Saint was the only reason we were going to be getting our girl back today, but who was the motherfucker currently rigging a car to blow? I'd like to see Sainty boy flat on his back in a parking lot, half wedged beneath a car while he cut the fuel lines. He’d be all like ‘for the love of all that is holy, I just got dust on my posterior.’ Yeah, that wasn’t going to fly for this job. Sometimes getting your hands dirty literally meant crawling around in the muck and blood and piss before rising up victorious, and I was down with that. Saint could lord it over us from afar with his plans and commands but when it came down to it, our team of hooligans needed all varieties of fucked up and if my role was to be the guy who got the job done, then great.
"If you think you're better equipped to handle this part of the plan then why don't you come down here and do it?" I muttered back, forcing my way further beneath the car before taking my hunting knife from my belt and reaching up to sever the fuel line.
The sharp blade cut through the plastic with a jerk of my muscles and the heady scent of gasoline assaulted me as the fuel began to piss out onto the concrete.
"Incoming," Blake's