Page 7 of The Pit


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“Well, any high-traffic areas should have fingerprints, right?” he asks as he heads back to the front door, we nod and he continues, “So, there’s no point in testing the front of the front door because we’ve touched the handle, but no ones touched the handle on this side. There should be fingerprints on it since they would’ve had to touch it to let themselves out. If I test it and we find no fingerprints, then it’s been wiped clean.”

“Ah, okay. I see, good idea,” I reply.

He shrugs, “If it works. It’s not foolproof either, but we can test a couple of places to see if there are any prints. Places that we know we haven’t touched. If they all come back clear, then this place has been wiped.”

We all watch as he gently brushes the cocoa powder on the door handle and then blows it softly.

“Anything?” Jensen asks.

Luc shakes his head, “Nope, nothing.”

“Let’s test some other areas quickly,” I suggest.

As we move through the room and toward the kitchen to test some areas in there, Rafe suddenly stops us and points.

“There’s a camera,” he signs, pointing to a corner of the room that is so shrouded in shadows that I have to really squint in order to see it.

I have no idea how he managed to pick up on it so easily, but I would never have noticed it if he hadn’t pointed it out.

“Shit, do we assume that Atlas and his uncle put it there and forgot to take it, or do we assume that they didn’t know it was there and that’s the reason why they had to take off?” Riot asks.

“No idea, but it's too late for us to hide now; if anyone is watching the camera, they’ve seen us,” I reply, “test the counter in the kitchen, but keep your back to the camera just in case.”

“Alright,” Luc nods.

We all follow him to the kitchen and stand between him and the camera just to make sure that nothing can be seen.

“Anything?” Cash asks.

“Nope, nothing. I think it’s safe to say that the whole place has been wiped.” Luc replies.

Luc

“So what does that mean?” Riot asks with a frown.

Trick shrugs, “I guess all it really tells us is that we were right, and Atlas had a lot more shit going on, dangerous shit that would mean he had to wipe a place clean before he left it.”

“We should probably keep an eye out for newcomers in town, just in case someone does come looking for them,” I suggest, “that way we can send them in the wrong direction.”

“Or kill them,” Jensen suggests, a wicked glint in his eye.

Trick rolls his eyes, “I know you’re joking, but you really should stop suggesting that as the solution to everything.”

Jensen shrugs, looking amused as he says, “But it’s a solution that works for everything.”

“For fuck sake,” Trick replies shaking his head but unable to stop the amusement in his eyes.

“I didn’t hear a no?” Jensen smirks, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

I burst out laughing. I can’t help it, and I’m not the only one. My laughter stops as quickly as it began as the movement makes the bruises on my stomach and back pull painfully. Thankfully, no one is looking in my direction, and the guys don't see my grimace of pain. I know they’d be pissed if they found out that he beat me as well, and I get it; I do; I would feel exactly the same if it was one of them that was going through it. I’d also be frustrated as hell because they didn’t want to do anything about it. It frustrates them, and they don’t even know how bad it is. As far as they’re aware, it's just words, emotional abuse, and the occasional launching of objects.

I understand. I always have.

I’ve held back from handling it before, I think, because I don’t want to sink to his level, but this time was different, or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I’ve just finally had enough. There was no real reason for it this time. He was just bored and thought he’d entertain himself by beating the shit out of me. My mother, if you can even call her that, just ignores it, pretends it's not happening, and drinks; she’s a functioning alcoholic, and no one would realize that she’s drunk pretty much all of the time.

I meant what I said back in the woods, though; I am going to stand up to him next time. There is another, darker reason why I haven’t wanted to handle it before, and that’s because I don’t know whether once I start, I’ll be able to stop. I’m not going to be able to reason with him. I’ve tried that before, and it just makes him angrier, so I am going to have to use violence; it’s the only thing he really understands anyway.

He’s put me through hell and is into so much dodgy shit. The guys do know about that. Not knowing if I’m going to be able to stop or not makes me wonder if maybe I should tell the guys about what’s really going on; perhaps they should know that the abuse isn't just emotional and verbal but that it’s been physical for as long as I can remember. There’s a real chance that I could lose control, and I’m a good enough fighter that if that happens, then I could kill him. I might need them there to stop me. The thing is, they’ve all got their own shit going on that makes my father beating me seem small in comparison.

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