Maniacs (Depraved Sinners 4)

Doe sniffed out two hidden rooms, one behind the bookshelf in Giovanni’s office, while the other was located behind the fireplace in the main living area, both I never knew existed, but either way, they were both empty.

We found cells beneath the house just as I expected, and my blood ran cold as we made our way down there, but Dill and Doe didn’t seem phased. They kept walking, kept searching, until finally coming to the conclusion that they weren’t here.

I let out a heavy sigh as we moved back across the lawn, my feet dragging through the manicured grass. A part of me knew they weren’t going to be there, but I’d hoped for it, needed it to be true. The very idea of them lost out in the world, alone and in pain … fuck. I can’t stomach it.

The last time Giovanni had anything to do with making someone disappear, it took the boys days to find me, and that was with a lifetime of training and resources to use. I’m all alone out here, and if Giovanni has taken them somewhere like his desert cells, then I’m fucked—we’re all fucked.

Heaviness sweeps over me, and Doe pushes into my side, her big body pressing against mine. My fingers twine into her fur as my nails scratch behind her ear. “Where the hell are they?” I ask the big wolves.

Doe tilts her big head up, the jet-black eyes boring into mine as we slip into the cover of the bushes. I give her a tight smile, unsure why I’m trying to comfort the wolf as though she can understand human gestures, but on the off chance that she can, I want her to know that it’s all going to be okay.

Thinking back to everything that I know about Giovanni, I try to put the pieces together. He kept Felicity at his home cells for months before taking her to the desert cells, he put me in the desert cell with Ariana, but before that …

The boys had once mentioned that their father was using their underground playground at the castle for his own sick games … What if he’s taken them there? That would be the cherry on top of this already fucked-up shit storm. Keeping them locked up in their own fucking cells, using their own tools against them, using the space they created, it’s sick and screams of Giovanni.

They have to be there.

A newfound hope burns bright in my chest and my pace kicks into gear, rushing through the thick bushes. The wolves stick with me, helping to lead me through the dark until we finally break out the other side to find the shitty Corolla exactly where I parked it.

Tearing open the driver’s door, the wolves barrel in, cutting through the middle to find enough space for their big furry asses in the back, and before the car door has even closed behind me, the engine is roaring to life and I’m peeling off the side of the curb, anxious to get to the boys.

The drive is long, and despite the many hours that it’s taken me to get to this point, I fear that those few wasted hours today have cost me dearly.

Tension rises as if the wolves know that this is it, that what we’re about to walk into could be fatal. Silence fills the car while the wolves remain alert, their bodies held taut as though they’re ready and prepared for any kind of war, ready to make things right.

The castle approaches and nerves settle deep in my stomach.

I have no idea what I’m supposed to do, no game plan, only that I have to get in there and somehow get them out, assuming they’re still alive. Fuck, I could be walking headfirst into a trap. The boys could have died on that battlefield that same night, but I refuse to give up now.

Assuming that Giovanni is there somewhere, I don’t drive down the main road. Instead, I head straight for the thick bushland surrounding the property, desperately searching for the discreet dirt road the boys carved through the trees. It’s well after three in the morning, and the events of the night are already weighing down on me, but just the thought of being near them, getting to see and hold them, spurs me on. I’d face down absolutely anything just to hear those deep, authoritative voices one last time.

The week of thinking they were dead has wreaked havoc on my soul, and now it’s time to take back what’s mine.

Finding the narrow trail, I turn off the road and dive headfirst through the thick trees. The wolves sit up even straighter, watching the fresh hell before us as though they’re terrified that I’m about to send us hurtling off a cliff, and honestly, with the way my heart is racing and the anxiety that’s pulsing through my veins, it’s a very real possibility.

“Come on,” I mutter, my eyes snapping through the bushes, scanning every dark corner. “Where is it?”

Desperation twists my stomach into knots as I search for the small shed the boys built out here as their escape. I only got to use it a handful of times, and those few times I did, I was either on the brink of death or already out cold. I have no recollection of how long this trail is or just how deep it goes into the thick trees.

Minutes pass, and just as I’m convincing myself that I’ve made the wrong turn, the headlights reflect off a dark green shed, camouflaged to keep hidden within the trees. Had the light not hit it just right, I would have driven straight past. My foot slams on the brakes, tires screeching to a halt. I cut the engine and rush out of the car into the dark shed, with nothing but the soft moonlight showing me the way.

The wolves bound after me as I scramble through the shed, slipping past an old Escalade, which probably hasn’t been used in months. A few bottles of water lay forgotten on a low riding bench, and I quickly crack them open, giving both the wolves something to drink before finding the hatch that leads down into the long tunnel.

It’s pitch black, darker than night in the long, winding passage, and I search around for a flashlight or an old lamp to light the way but come up blank. I guess it’s just me and my memory on this one.

The wolves follow me down into the tunnel and we walk for what feels like forever, each step bringing me closer and closer to discovering my fate. The boys built the tunnel beneath the staff kitchen, leading up into the castle, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to actually get down to the playground without giving myself away. If Giovanni is inside the castle, I’m fucked. My only hope is that the place isn’t locked up like Fort Knox.

My hands shake as I reach the end of the tunnel and I groan, finding the heavy bookshelf the guys kept at the opening to conceal the tunnel. “How the fuck am I supposed to move that?” I murmur as the wolves hang back, leaving me to figure out this one on my own.

Gripping the old shelf, I suck in a breath and push with everything that I have. The fucker doesn’t budge, doesn’t do shit apart from breaking my nails. I stifle a cry, the frustration quickly getting the best of me as I try again and again, until I finally begin to inch it out of the way.

My fingers bleed, my palms ache and blister, but I don’t stop until there’s a space big enough for me and the wolves to squeeze through. We push through it, the wolves right on my heels, and we all listen hard, trying to figure out what’s going down in this prison.

The DeAngelis mansion was dead silent, but unlike that, there’s the soft vibrating whirr of the refrigerator, the subtle hum of the air conditioner, and if I listen close enough, maybe even the faint cries of a newborn baby.

My back stiffens. I hadn’t considered that. All I’d been focused on was saving the boys, but if the baby is here too, if there’s a chance that I can save him … fuck. There’s nothing I won’t do.

Making my way up to the staff kitchen, I peer around, resisting the urge to flick on the light. It’s late, there’s a good chance that Giovanni is fast asleep, but what about his guards? There’s no way a man like that could sleep in peace knowing his sons are down in the playground, each of them dreaming up the most brutal ways to murder him. No, Giovanni will need men surrounding him at all times and watching the property like hawks.