Sneak Attack (Tapped Out 2)

And then I didn’t hurt anymore.

20

Tray

Halfway down the stairs, I stopped as a distant, excited roar went up from the crowd. I recognized it for what it was. Someone had won.

Someone else had lost.

My heart turned over in my chest and I gripped the rail, fighting every instinct that demanded I turn back. How could I have left her alone? She needed me. I loved Slater like a brother, but she was the blood in my veins. Knowing I’d walked away from her when she needed me most, trusted others to ensure her safety, was like a million knives carving into my skin.

Then a scream sounded from down below, deep in the tunnel, and my feet carried me forward without my help.

I stumbled into the black, lit only by occasional sodium lights high on the rough-hewn walls. It was like a fucking long cave, in the middle of a warehouse in Brooklyn. I felt my way forward, running my hands along the uneven walls, squinting until my eyes began to adjust to the near darkness. The sound of sobbing forced me to move faster. I cursed as I slipped on something wet and nearly went to my knees. My palms hit the floor to break my fall. After regaining my balance, I lifted my hand, turning it toward the thin shaft of light.

Thick red liquid coated my fingers.

Goddammit.

I surged forward, my vision finally adjusting. The tunnel turned right and opened up to another flight of stairs, this one slightly better lit. Slater knelt at the base of them, and leaned over a prone body.

Bloody blonde hair spread over the cement floor.

I crouched beside him and touched his shoulder, but he shook me off. “They hurt her,” he whispered, his voice choked. “Punched her right in the face.”

A glance down at the blonde made me catch my breath. Her lips were puffy and cracked, and her nose was bleeding heavily.

I shoved him out of the way and felt for a pulse. It was strong and steady, though she was unconscious.

“She’s going to be fine,” I said, in spite of not being certain it was true. My best guess was that she would be, but I didn’t know if they’d done something to her I couldn’t see.

And I honestly didn’t know if I cared.

She’d harassed Mia, stalked her and tried to scare her. Some of that might have been due to the company Olivia had fallen in with, but what sane person would think hanging out with people like that was a good idea?

Your friend Gio seems to have no problem.

Shaking that off, my gaze returned to the pale woman on the floor. Sane didn’t really come into play when it referred to Darren Winthrop. Apparently that applied to his daughter as well. I didn’t understand why she’d gone after Mia. She hadn’t tried to physically attack her, or even done anything that destructive that I knew of—though the slashed heavy bag was more than a prank—but she was clearly unbalanced. Did she blame Mia for her father’s death? Or maybe even losing some chunk of the family fortune? Little did she know Mia hadn’t seen one red cent yet. Still, Olivia’s lifestyle had to have changed after the settlement. And I knew all too well what money did to people.

Slater dragged out his phone, punching numbers with fingers that shook. He spoke to the 911 operator while I pulled off my T-shirt and tucked it under her head. She was a sadistic, twisted bitch, but I didn’t want her to die until I knew why. Until I understood what would motivate a person to further victimize a woman who’d already suffered through so much.

Then I’d make her wish she had never been born.

As soon as Slater hung up, he nudged me out of the way and cupped her face in his hands. “They’re coming, sweetheart. Just hang on. Help is on the way.”

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. “Christ, ease off. She’s not fucking dying.”

Unfortunately. But if she did now, I wouldn’t get my answers.

He turned to me, and his eyes were ravaged. I’d never seen them anything but that steady, placid green. Now they were wild. Incensed. “How dare you?”

“How dare I? I’ll tell you how I dare.” I grabbed his shirt, shaking him. Had he taken a hit to the head too? “She fucking stalked Mia, calling her, following her, doing who knows what else. She broke into our office at the gym and attacked the heavy bag. She’s a fucking psycho, man.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. I could tell he was trying to make sense of what I’d said. What it meant. He glanced back at her as she whimpered, then he shook his head. “No. I don’t believe you. They hurt her.”

“Don’t believe me? I fucking saw her.”

“What did you see?”