Maniacs (Depraved Sinners 4)

“There,” Levi calls out, pointing across the lot. “Number eight.”

We sprint, all too aware of our time quickly dwindling. “Five seconds,” Roman calls as Levi reaches the old roller door. He doesn’t hesitate, reaching down and gripping the little handle before tearing the door up.

“Three,” Roman says. “Two.”

Panic tears at me as Marcus pushes against my back, taking us that final step and crossing into the safety of the storage shed just as the power flickers back to life.

I collapse against the brand-new Escalade, my face squishing against the shiny midnight paint. “Holy fuck,” I pant, unable to catch my breath as Marcus braces his elbows against the hood, his forehead dipping into his hand. “Are you good?”

His jaw clenches and he glances down at his waist, gently pulling his shirt up to see a trickle of blood sailing down his tight abs, dripping along the harsh curve of his V. “Shit,” he says, pressing his shirt against the wound to mop up the blood before it can make much more of a mess. “I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”

I nod, feeling it more than he could know, and that’s without a stab wound or a life-threatening infection. If I were in his position, I would have given up by the second flight of stairs, yet every fucking moment of this he proves to me just how strong he really is.

Fuck, I’m seriously out of shape.

Roman walks to the driver’s door as I quickly look around the small storage garage, double checking that we’re not about to be sprung. “There are no cameras in here,” Roman says, reading my thoughts, “but that doesn’t mean the night guard hasn’t been alerted to an open door. We have to move. Now.”

My tongue rolls over my dry lips, and I nod, knowing he has a damn good point, but actually getting my legs to move again is going to be a struggle. My knees give out and I stumble around to the back passenger door as Marcus and Levi take the other side. “You know,” I say, passing Roman as I reach for the handle. “I could always drive.”

Roman laughs, tearing open the door and instantly climbing in before quickly searching out the keys. He reaches up and drops the visor down, grinning as the keys fall directly into his waiting hand. “No chance in hell,” he tells me, watching me through the rearview mirror as I get comfortable behind him.

All four doors close, one by one with heavy thuds, and before I can even ask where we’re heading, the shiny Escalade is roaring to life, the vibrations of the engine rocking the whole damn thing.

Roman doesn’t waste another damn second and hits the gas, the momentum pressing my back flat against my seat. The tires squeal and all too soon, we’re peeling out of the storage facility and racing past Giovanni’s warehouse like criminals on the run.

18

The Escalade pulls to a stop outside a large country property, and I stare out the window, my brows furrowed in confusion. “Is this where we’re staying?” I question as Roman pulls the small button to put his window down.

“Hell no,” Marcus says, his face scrunching up at the small cabin-style home that looks as though it’s about to fall over. “Even in desperation, I still have five-star taste.”

I scoff, suppressing the comment sitting on the tip of my tongue as Roman leans out his open window, pressing his fingers to his lips and letting out an ear shattering wolf whistle that immediately has my head pounding.

“What the hell was that—”

The words fall away as I see Dill and Doe come bounding through the massive country property, their tongues lolling out the side of their mouths while their tails wag from side to side like two happy little murder puppies. They’re so carefree that I find myself watching them with awe, my chest constricting with a fierce jealousy. God, what I’d give to have that.

Soon. Really soon, I promise myself.

Levi climbs out of the Escalade, and by the time he reaches the trunk and has the door wide open, Dill and Doe are already there, jumping into the massive trunk space and shoving their enormous heads through, their hot, meaty breath slamming into my face.

I hold back a gag, unable to push their heads away simply because of the happiness in their eyes at seeing the boys alive and well. Levi gets back in, and within seconds, Roman is pulling the car around and hitting the gas, leaving nothing but dust in our wake.

We drive for another few hours, and it doesn’t take long before Marcus is uncomfortable and fidgeting in his seat. He twists around, reclining his chair and trying to stretch out. I don’t blame the guy, there’s nothing wrong with me except for a bruised ego and a shitload of dark thoughts that plague my every waking hour, and even I’m ready to get out of this car.

Only a few short days ago, I would have killed to be able to spend long ass hours cramped in a car with these three guys. Now that I know they’re on the brink of being perfectly fine, that reckless desperation inside of me has begun to ease.

Now, I’m only plagued with a deep anger and hate. It fuels me like never before.

By the time Roman is pulling down a familiar driveway, Marcus is sprawled across the backseat, his head in my lap and my fingers knotted in his messy hair. “Here? Really?” I ask in surprise, glancing out the window at the big mansion I thought I’d never see again.

My question stirs Marcus to open his eyes and sit up. He glances out the window, his brows arching just as mine had. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, looking to the front seat of the car and studying the hard set of Roman’s jaw. Concern laces his dark eyes, but it’s clear that Levi and Marcus are just as surprised to be here.

Roman doesn’t answer my question and realizing that one is never coming, I turn my gaze back to the charred remains of the home Roman built. It was only a few short weeks ago that we burned this fucker to the ground … with their uncle inside of it.

The fire decimated the front half of the massive property, but there’s still plenty of it left for us to hide out in until we find our bearings. At least, I hope there is. Who knows what it actually looks like inside. It’s definitely a risk being here, but what other options do we have? I don’t think Giovanni would come here. He would have written this place off the moment it burned to the ground.

Roman brings the Escalade right to the top of the circle driveway and cuts the engine. He pauses for a moment, taking in a deep sigh that the boys don’t notice, but I do. It’s clear that he hates what we did here, that this project he loved so much was destroyed, despite it being taken away from him. But he would have done it a million times over if it meant keeping me and his brothers safe.