Damaged (Boys of Winter #2) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,75
and it’s not long before we realize the whole house is covered with secret rooms, false walls, and creepy bullshit that no person in their right mind should have in their home.
We find King silently making his way through the house and Grayson stops. “Find anything?”
“Not yet,” he says, his eyes scanning up and down my body, checking that I’m still in one piece, and honestly, after being resuscitated just yesterday, I could really use a sit down and maybe a glass of water, but it’s going to have to wait. “Sam’s personal study is just down the hall from here. I went through it but couldn’t find anything. Cruz is better at paperwork though. He might be able to see something that I didn’t.”
Grayson nods. “Have you done what you needed to do?”
“Almost.”
“Good.”
And just like that, we part ways and King continues down the hall, his gun securely in his hand.
We keep moving, but when we pass Sam’s personal study, I find myself reaching for his door. “No,” Grayson says. “King has already checked it. Leave the rest for Cruz. We’re not wasting time.”
I shake my head. “I just … no. I just have a feeling about something.”
Grayson sighs and looks back down the hallway before stepping into the study with me. “Make it quick.”
I nod and hurry around the room, scanning over everything as I go before coming to a stop at Sam’s desk. It’s huge and spans the length of the room with about ten drawers on either side.
I place my gun down on the table, and not giving a shit about keeping it clean, I start yanking out the drawers and tipping them on to the desk. The pens and stationery clatter out and I quickly dig through it before dumping the drawer and going for the next. “Could you be any fucking louder?” Grayson seethes.
I snap my glare up at him. “You told me to be quick,” I remind him. “Shut the fucking door if you’re too scared.”
I laugh at the ridiculousness of my comment. A guy like Grayson isn’t scared of anything, but just the fact that I insinuated it drives him fucking mad. He doesn’t say anything though, he’s got far too much control for that, but knowing is enough for me.
The fifth drawer is heavier, and as I yank it out, I find nothing but a few papers, papers that definitely shouldn’t be this heavy. I look over the drawer, rattling it to hear noise coming from inside. Grayson steps closer looking over it with me. “There,” he says, pointing to a small opening. “It’s got a false bottom.”
I shove the drawer down on the desk, smirking to myself as it scratches the shit out of the expensive wood. I carefully pull the knife from between my tits and use it to pry open the false bottom, and just like that, I find Sam’s sick little collection of mementos that he’s collected from the stolen girls over the years. There are rings, necklaces, bangles, and right on fucking top are my brass knuckles.
A grin stretches across my face as I pick them out of the drawer and slide them straight back on my fingers. It’s like coming home after a long, shitty trip away, and for the first time in weeks, I finally feel like myself again.
I glance up to meet Grayson’s eyes, seeing an understanding within his grey depths. “I don’t care what you say,” I tell him. “We’re taking this drawer and reuniting as many of these things with their owners as possible.”
Grayson just nods, and as I go to lift up the drawer, the study door flies open, and my head snaps up to find Knox welcoming himself into the room.
Well, well, this is a nice little surprise.
Knox comes to an immediate stop, his head flying up as he meets my wide stare. His mouth drops and it takes me a second to realize that he hasn’t been in school after the guys had gotten to him, and as far as he was aware, his uncle stole me right out of my bedroom and sold me to a wealthy businessman.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, a grin kicking up the corner of my mouth. “You look like you’re seeing a ghost.”
His gaze flicks between me and Grayson, and I curl my fingers into a fist, feeling the sweet familiarity of the brass knuckles tightening over my fingers. It’s like getting rain in the driest desert.