Page 80 of Devour

The mattress shifts as he climbs off me. Something is placed in my hand, and I think he wipes between my legs. I can’t move. I can’t turn over. I can’t open my eyes. I don’t even know if any of this is real.

I see Axl’s face and realize that I’m crying. Everything about this feels wrong. I just want Axl. “Axl?” I call out for him. Or at least I think I do. No one answers.

I close my eyes and his face is there. Where’s Axl? If he’s not here, why won’t he wake me up from this nightmare?

CHAPTER 33

AXL

It’s two in the morning, and we’re back at the same building where we saw David Carter at our last stakeout. From the road it looks like a boutique hotel or a high-end condo, but there are no signs and all the windows are blacked out so we can’t see inside. Nothing about this place draws attention from the outside.

The heat signatures confirm what we suspected—women are being kept inside this building. That explains the men we’ve seen coming and going. They’re spread out, which makes us think they are being kept in separate rooms.

After we briefed the Sinclairs this morning on what we had, Tate did not want to wait. None of us believe that this is the only operation. We needed to take this one down now to see what we can learn about the larger network.

I haven’t had a single minute to check the cameras in our room. I sent Saylor a couple of texts, and I’m fucking irritated that I haven’t heard from her since she called me an asshole earlier. Her pulling that brat shit is going to earn her a fucking punishment. But right now I have to focus so we all get out of here alive and get what we came for.

There are two guards on the main level and at least four more inside based on the patterns we tracked. Tonight we’re taking this place apart. We already dismantled the security system and cameras, so we have to take the guards out as quickly as possible.

Tate is running point on this one. Fox is positioned at a service entrance on the east side with Kase. Thorne is with me at the main entrance. Priest and Crew are stacked with Tate at the back. The parking lot has three vehicles in it. One of them is registered to a name Crew flagged as being connected to the list of missing girls.

“On my call,” Tate says through the earpiece. “We need to leave some of these fuckers breathing to pump for information later.”

We use a device that overrides door code security. The line turns green on the door. Thorne and I walk through the main entrance without having to force our way in. The lobby is small but it’s clean—tile floors, a desk with a monitor, two chairs. It looks like a fucking reception area. There’s even a fridge with a clear door that has water, wine, champagne, and energy drinks.

The first guard is sitting behind the desk, scrolling his phone. He looks up when we come through the door, and his hand drops below the desk.

Thorne puts two rounds from his silenced pistol into the man’s arm before he can pull whatever he’s reaching for. “Keep your hands where I can fucking see them.”

The guard cries out and grips his arm, falling from the chair. I’m behind the desk before he can think about being stupid, and I rip the Glock out of his hand. I shove him onto his stomach and use zip ties on his wrists while Thorne keeps his weapon on him.

“The front entrance is secured,” I say into the comms. “One guard down. There’s a desk and a monitor up here. Looks like they run some kind of fucking check-in.”

“The back is clear,” Tate responds. “Crew and Priest have the second guard. The pussy tried to run, but Priest got him.”

“I was gentle,” Priest adds. “Mostly.”

“Our side is clear,” Fox says. “We’ll make our way to you.”

I look at the monitor behind the desk and grab the mouse to scroll through what is on the screen. It’s a booking system. There’s a calendar view with time slots, room numbers, and client codes. There aren’t any names. But we’ll be taking this computer with us to see what we can get off of it. I disconnect it from the internet to make sure that no one can execute any programs to wipe it before we get what we can from it. Crew and Thorne are both good at that shit.

Thorne and I secure the guard so he can’t move, and we leave him bleeding on the lobby floor. We join the others at the back corridor.

“The rooms are on the upper floors,” Fox says. “There are two levels above this one based on the building layout. Heat signatures show guards moving on both.”

“We clear floor by floor,” Tate says. “Using only the stairs. I don’t want anyone knowing we’re coming until we’re already there.”

We take the stairwell. Priest goes first because that’s who he is, and we let him do it. The second-floor door opens onto a carpeted hallway with doors on both sides. There are keypads on every door. Art hangs on the walls with high-end lighting. It’s the kind of shit you’d see at a five-star hotel.

There are two guards at opposite ends of the hall. The one closest to us turns at the sound of the door and goes for the gun on his hip.

Priest doesn’t let him get there. He charges the man and grabs his wrist and wrenches it sideways, snapping it. The guard drops to his knees, and Priest drives his elbow into the back of his head. He’s out cold before he hits the carpet.

The second guard sees what happened and runs as he brings a radio to his lips. “Alert. We have company.”

Kase takes off after him. “Goddamnit, you fuck,” he shouts at the man. The guard makes it three steps before Kase tackles him from behind. They both hit the floor hard. Kase pins him facedown with a knee in his spine and zip-ties his wrists.

“That’s four fucking down,” Kase says, breathing hard, then kicking the man in the stomach. “And we’re about to have company.”