Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
There’s a heavy metal clang followed by a strange scraping, and right before my eyes the boys step into the wall, leaving me gaping after them. “What the fuck?” I mouth to myself, the darkness playing tricks on my eyes. I know those assholes didn’t just step through some type of magical portal.
Not wanting to lose track of them and end up alone in this creep-tastic tunnel, I quickly scurry along, my heart thumping in my ears. My breath comes in sharp, heavy pants as paranoia slinks up on me, certain that someone is about to jump out and drag me even further into the darkness.
I stop at the place where the boys disappeared and glance over the tunnel wall. My eyes finally begin to adjust to the dark, and I find an old door that looks as though it must be centuries old. There’s a keyhole to the side and a flare of frustration fires through me. Trying my luck, I shove my hands up against the old door and give it a hard shove, my eyes widening as it starts to move.
“Oh shit,” I breathe. The door is heavy as hell, but when I lean right up against it with all my weight, it opens just enough for me to slip through the gap.
Inside is dimly lit, and I quickly notice a narrow set of stairs carved from old stone blocks. Instinctively I walk toward it, bypassing some expensive-looking tech. Assuming it’s some kind of security system, I don’t touch a thing. I might be a whiz when it comes to stealing people’s phones and magically unlocking them, but when it comes to shit like this, I’d probably send the whole system into a meltdown.
Taking myself down the stairs, I come to an old iron gate that looks to be gold-plated. Heavy chains hang around it, but they’ve been left unlocked as though the boys are anticipating a hasty getaway. My fingers curl around the cold iron and I give it a small push, fear pounding through my body.
The gate isn’t anywhere near as heavy as the first door, and as I pass through it, I can’t help but notice the similarities between the intricate design in the gate and the tattoos across Easton’s chest. I study it closer but don’t linger, not wanting the boys to get too far ahead.
There’s no telling what I could find down here. It could be a maze of tunnels, or I could be walking right toward a trap. So as long as I try to keep the boys in sight, I might just have a chance of seeing daylight again.
More stairs lead me further underground, and at the last step, I can see a faint glow of light ahead. A booming laugh interrupts the soft conversation, followed by a stern voice echoing through the long corridor.
I follow the sounds and the closer I get, the clearer it becomes that this is the home of Empire. Or, at least somewhere safe for the members to come and openly converse. Turning the corner at the end, the corridor opens up into a wide space filled with dark colors and dim lighting.
Men in suits fill the room, lounging back in armchairs with cigars between their fingers while girls dance for them, making them feel like kings. I swallow hard, disgust brimming in my chest. These men are not kings. They’re frauds who get ahead in life because of the connections they make in underground organizations like this. They don’t deserve anything they’ve got. Especially when there are honest, hard-working people out there who are putting in the effort.
Obnoxious laughter draws my attention, and I glance across the room to find the chief of police lounged back on a leather-studded couch, one hand holding his drink, the other gripping a young waitress’s ass. Unease flashes in her eyes, and the need to save her slams through me, but I watch as she discreetly slips out of his reach as though she’s been doing it all night. She barely looks eighteen, and I find myself wondering how the hell she ended up here.
Not wanting to linger on anything, I move into the room, keeping to the edges and trying to blend in. There are plenty of people in this fucked-up little gentleman’s club, so sliding in unnoticed isn’t a problem.
I get halfway across the room when something catches my eye. I glance up just in time to see Dalton step out of the shadows, a chilling look in his eyes. He moves in front of a door, discreetly checking that no one is watching him before disappearing through it.
Gotcha, motherfucker.
Cutting through the room, I hurry past arrogant men and narrowly avoid getting my ass grabbed by someone’s grandfather before reaching the door. It’s been left cracked, and I peer through it to find a dark corridor. It’s somehow even creepier than the old train tunnel, but I’ve come this far. I’m not about to give up now.