His office.
“We need to go to his office. Somewhere that he would keep his personal documents.” I needed to get out of this basement. I was suffocating. I would kill him. I glanced back at the chains as they swayed in front of my face, picturing Gemma chained up. For his own pleasure? To harm her? Both?
“Oh, shit. Get over here.” My shoe rubbed over gritty dirt as I spun around.
“Wait. Isaiah.” Cade’s hand clamped onto my shoulder. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”
I bristled under his grip. “Get the fuck off me. I’m fine.”
“Are you?” He met my eye, and I knew I was slipping. Anger was brewing like no other, and it was taking over my conscious ability to control the situation that I would be face to face with in the future.
I nodded once after expelling a deep breath, and we both walked over to where Brantley was standing. His hands were in fists by his sides, rubbing over his black jeans.
Silence followed us like a deadly plague, and I froze, right there in that exact spot, with the chains swaying behind me.
Richard Stallard was a dead man.
My gaze slowly crawled up the wall, and I pointed the flashlight over every last photo of the only girl I’d ever kill for. A hollow numbness flowed through me, and it was a bad fucking thing to feel. Photo after photo of Gemma bound, naked, cold, and starving. His large hands on her body. A finger here or there trailing down her sleeping face while she lay in her bed, surrounded by fluffy blankets, unknowing that he was standing over her.
Scars.
Cuts.
Scrapes.
Bruises.
He had touched her, and she didn’t want him to. He hurt what was mine.
Nausea crept up my throat, but I clamped my teeth down. A feeling that I’d never felt so viciously before flew through me, and I was ready to kill. My hands shook as I clutched the flashlight in my hand, and Cade’s hand grabbed it out of my grasp before wrapping his palms around my head tightly.
“Calm down, Isaiah.”
I couldn’t breathe in normal air. I choked on rage and fury. I was going to rip his hands from his fucking body.
“Isaiah!” Cade’s harsh whisper did nothing to plow through the debris of my humanity falling to the fucking floor like bricks. He slapped my face, and I quickly whipped it back toward the photos. So many. There were so many. He’d touched her while she was naked and chained. His hand on her neck, her back, gripping her hair.
“He needs to get the fuck out of here, now.”
“Think of Gemma, Isaiah.” Brantley’s thick fingers dug into my arms. “You can’t be there for her if you’re in prison, and if you do anything right now, that’s where you’ll go.”
I had to get out of here.
I was going to blow the house to fucking pieces. I’d pull the pin out of the goddamn grenade without a second thought if given the chance.
“Go to his office. Gather everything about Gemma, the Covens, and someone named Tobias.”
Cade nodded. “I’m on it. Go. Now.”
Brantley pulled me as Cade stayed behind, and I let him lead me out the side door that we’d come in. I kept my face straight ahead, my body angled away from the house, because if I caught a glimpse of it again, I would turn right back around and kill Richard Stallard with my own two hands.
I said it before, and I’d say it again: Gemma Richardson was the one person I’d give up my humanity for.