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I forced my body to relax, making him think I’d given up, and the moment we rounded the corner into the hallway, I swung my fist back and punched him in the back of the head, surprising him. He stumbled and I kicked the back of his leg to drop him, not that it worked because the man was a walking wall of toned muscle, but it made him let me go.
I tried to run but was tackled to the ground, the air being knocked from my lungs as my stomach hit the floor with someone on top of me.
I struggled but went still when I heard the click of a gun.
“Don’t push me, Whitlock. I can blow your brains out and have a clean-up crew here in seconds,” Stone said in a calm voice that was somehow scarier than his angry voice.
I couldn’t help the whimper that left me, some of my bravery fleeing as he finally climbed off me and hauled me to my feet, forcing me to walk in front of him until we reached a door.
His was coded and I had to wonder if he was paranoid or just liked his privacy.
He pushed me through the door once it opened, slamming it shut the moment I was inside.
“Have a good day, asshole!” I called as I punched the door out of frustration, wishing it was his face.
I turned to glance around the dimly lit room, flicking the light on to get a better look. It was spotless and he had zero personal items lying around in view. I poked around in his drawers but found nothing interesting so I dropped back onto his bed with a huff.
He was infuriating and I definitely preferred dealing with Cruz.
I rolled over to face the wall, curling into myself and closing my eyes.
If I was stuck here, I might as well try to get some rest.
I’d escape later.
Chapter Four
Stone
“You fucked up,” I bit out as I eyed the security footage that was live streaming from my bedroom, Cruz wincing at me from his chair behind the computer. We all had security in our rooms but no one had access unless it was necessary.
Penelope was sleeping on my bed without a care in the fucking world, and she was lucky I didn’t go in there and suffocate her with my pillow. I didn’t like anyone in my space, the guys hardly even stepped foot in there, but it was also the most secure room in the building. “What’s your plan then? You claim you’ll deal with her so tell me what you’re plotting.” I was being a dick but I didn’t give a shit. He’d brought this shitstorm to my doorstep so he couldn’t act surprised by my mood.
“She can’t get out of the compound so I didn’t think locking her in my room was necessary. I wanted her to be able to use the bathroom,” he groaned, dropping his head back on the headrest. “Can I get some sleep and figure it out later? It’s not like she’s going anywhere.”
“She can’t because I made sure of it. I love you, brother, but I swear you’ve got rocks in your head sometimes. I expect this kind of bullshit from Drake but not you. You’re coming with me to deal with this security issue for the Psychos and then you can make the trip into town for supplies,” I ordered, his shoulders sagging.
“Shouldn’t I stay here in case—”
“If she needs anything, too bad. What part of she’s a hostage don’t you understand?” I growled, scrubbing my hand over my buzz cut with annoyance. “Why the fuck did you bring her here? You should’ve been more vigilant of your surroundings and bailed if you couldn’t get in and out without being noticed.”
“She was locked in her room like a prisoner in her own fucking home, dude. Someone’s obviously hurting her since her lip’s swollen and—”
“That’s not your problem!”
“I panicked, okay? She’s a witness but I’m not a cold-blooded murderer so I couldn’t kill her. I also couldn’t just leave her there since she’d seen our faces and knew my name thanks to Drake’s big mouth. I figured I’d bring her back here and deal with it afterwards. I need to look into her more because she’s claiming to be someone who’s dead." He let out a scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s always the pretty ones that cause the most problems, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, some of my temper simmering as I eyed him.
“You brought her home because she’s pretty? I could kill you.”
“I mean, she’s definitely pretty but I honestly didn’t know what to do. Shit, should I run a background check?” He was already starting to type on the computer as he spoke but he stopped when I pulled a piece of paper out of the back pocket of my jeans and dropped it onto the desk in front of him.
“Penelope Whitlock, twenty-two years of age, birthday first of December. Her mother, Barbara Whitlock, left after the death of their eldest daughter, Emily. The father, Louis Whitlock, is a piece of shit with his fingers in everyone’s cookie jars. It seems he has shares in multiple companies, many accusations for being involved with the sex trade but there’s zero proof, and he’s well known for being a sleazy, abusive, piece of shit,” I said out loud as I ticked the list off on my fingers. “Penelope was claimed to have died from pneumonia but there’s no trace of a death certificate. There’s also the story that she’s mentally ill and has been kept in a facility. I’ve hacked into their home security history to see how the fuck we missed her existance in the first place. I downloaded months worth of footage and ran her face through the system. It’s her home, we should’ve spotted her on the cameras at some point in the past week, but she only emerged once a week ago for breakfast but was sent away before she could eat.”
Cruz’s fingers tightened on the paper as he stared at it.
“Apparently her father keeps her locked up. Her bedroom had a connecting bathroom she had access to but she didn’t seem to be allowed to roam the property freely. She acted like she hadn’t been outside in fucking years when we took her. If talking to two strange men who broke into her house were a better option than staying silent, something’s seriously fucked up. We were leaving and she suddenly made herself known. She was hidden. It doesn’t make sense as to why she’d stop us.”
