Free Come To Me (Owned Book 3) by Mary Catherine Gebhard

thing.
    Four floors besides the bottom one. A roof. A shitty fire escape. Two balconied floors. Possibly a basement. I quickly scanned the building, trying to learn as much as I could in what little time I had. It was anyone’s guess as to where they were keeping Lenny.
    A doorman sat outside an arched, heavy wooden door, his face in a crooked scowl. I didn’t need to bet money to know he was more than a doorman. He was the first line of defense, but still probably just a brute with no other training than punch-hit-lights-out. If this was as low key and unofficial as Seven said, Alice couldn’t spare many men and would have likely had to outsource i.e. pay random street thugs.
    I could take him down easily, but that runs the complication of letting my presence be known. It would be better to wait, scope out the building’s weak points, and discover the rituals of those inside. It would take time, but results in less bloodshed.
    Fuck it.
    “Hey you!” I yelled out. A short smile played on my lips when his head spun around, looking for me. Calling out like that wasn’t smart. It sure as shit wasn’t how I was trained. Maybe it was testosterone, or maybe it was just a side effect of living with Lenny, but I was sick of playing it smart.
    I wanted blood.
    Coming out of the shadows like water seeping from stone, I made myself known and advanced toward him.
    “Wh—what are you doing?” The doorman faltered a bit when he saw me. Maybe it was the crazy grin on my face.
    I shrugged. “Going for a walk.”
    “Well fuck off.” He puffed up his chest and raised his chin. “You can’t be here.” I studied the man, taking slow, careful strides in a circle around his body. Though he had thick muscles and wore his weapon strapped obnoxiously beneath the front of his waistband and jocks, his cheeks were still full and there were no lines marring his face. The boy couldn’t have been more than nineteen.
    “Why?” I responded. “It’s a free country.” Now I was just fucking with him.
    “It’s not free here.” He was taller than me, but unsure on his feet. He had uneven whiskers on his face and a beanie about to fall off his head. I started to wonder if this was his first night out. Maybe Alice had promised him money and women if he worked for her. Maybe he believed her. Maybe he thought he’d never meet someone like me.
    Too bad.
    Before the guy could react I threw a right hook, hitting him square in the jaw. He fell like a tree. That’s the worst thing about throwing a knockout: when someone passes out, all their body weight lands on you. I could’ve let him fall, but his body hitting the cement might’ve attracted unwanted attention. So, I was stuck dragging a hundred and ninety around the corner—a hundred and ninety plus whatever gravity decided to throw in.
    After I’d thrown the poor rookie among the refuse, I returned to the heavy wooden door. It would be a bitch to knock down, but I was never one to shy away from a challenge.
     

     
    Y ou know that moment in movies and books when someone says, “It’s too quiet?” Yeah, well, it was too fucking quiet. I blasted the goddamn door down expecting bullets and bodies, but instead received a graveyard at midnight. Not even the sound of a footstep was heard.
    That is, until I heard her.
    Lenny.
    I heard her scream. The sound ricocheted in my ribcage, bouncing around until I felt sick to my stomach. It sounded like it was coming over some kind of speakers. It was incessant and consistent, never ending, and mind bending. It was like her scream was inside my own head.
    They were fucking with me. I knew they were. It was the easiest game in the book. They were trying to rile me up and get me to break form, get me to show my hand early.
    Well it worked.
    I sprinted down the hallway, not paying mind to corners or open doors. There was only one thought on my mind: Lenny.
    I skipped the elevator and ran up the stairs. Her screaming grew louder. It was like a