The Butcher of the Bay Part II - J. Bree Page 0,19

blood. The rooms up here are ever more spread out and still fucking empty. Fuck me, this place is a fucking maze. Maybe I should have kept the cunt at the door breathing a little longer, just to draw us a fucking map.

Finally, we hit a meeting room full of assholes in suits.

I take out four men with my cleavers, quick deaths because I'm not going to have fun with it right now. Not when she’s been here for hours already. Roxas starts yelling out numbers like an asshole and Harbin roars back at him to quit it. I zone them both out, just put them to the back of my mind as I move forward.

We clear the room and then move on. Fuck, we’re running out of fucking rooms and still she’s nowhere to be fucking seen.

Come on, baby girl. Where did they hide you?

I hear footsteps behind us but they’re wrong. Too heavy, more stomping than any man from the Bay would ever be so I turn, right as the kid does too. She’s faster than me and drops her gun, not taking the chance of hitting Roxas or Harbin with a stray bullet. She’s fucking smart, quick thinking, and grabs her knife at the last second. He’s on her right as she turns and, even though he’s three times the size of her, he’s no match. He’s dead with one swing of her arm, knife in his throat and a quick twist to just blow his entire fucking jugular out, and his friend catches her by the arm. He gets an arm around her throat and smirks at me.

She shifts her stance and I know she's about to throw him the fuck off of her but I'm not going to take a risk.

I yank the cleaver out of the blood-soaked corpse at my feet and throw it at him, watching as his eyes widen but I'm too fucking fast for him to react and it catches him firmly in the throat, the arterial blood soaking the kid's face and hair until she looks like something out of a horror movie.

"Fucking gross."

She sounds so fucking prissy, something I never fucking hear from her, and I think I'll tease the fuck out of her later about it.

We make it to the end of the hall, every room being fucking empty and this is the last fucking option. If she’s not in here then either there’s a basement or… I’m not fucking thinking about any of the other options. I grab the handle.

The door is fucking locked.

Blinding, fierce rage over takes me. She has to fucking be in here and some fucking piece of shit is with her, I can fucking feel it. I rear back to kick the door in until the wood splinters and just fucking flies away from my boot.

I charge into the room but only make it three steps in before I falter to a stop, the kid swearing behind me as she nearly slams into my back.

Odie is sitting on a bed, wearing only my shirt from days ago, covered in blood.

I'm too late.

Chapter Six

Odie

I spend the day looking for a way out of the room, some hidden door or maybe something I can pick the lock with, but there’s nothing.

The bed is soft and lavish, but the rest of the room is very… barren. The floors are polished wood floorboard, none of them loose and no nails protruding. The bathroom only has a toilet and a bath, a single bar of soap the only thing available. Not even any towels.

I’d love to be able to get clean but there’s no way I’m taking Illi’s shirt off. There could be cameras or a peephole drilled into the wall somewhere.

Lord Devareux could come back at any moment.

He doesn’t though, even when my lunch is brought to me by one of the men he doesn’t appear. The man is someone different, someone who hadn’t been there to pick me up from the abandoned house, and he refuses to meet my eye.

I know for sure that my instincts are right and there’s no way I should eat or drink anything on the tray.

I pour the water down the plughole in the bathtub and I break the food apart to look as though I’ve eaten it. The bread is too fluffy for my liking anyway, I tell my stomach this as it begins to rumble with hunger. I don’t feel as much fear this time around, it’s as though