Maniacs (Depraved Sinners 4)

Nerves wreak havoc over my body, my hands quickly growing clammy, and I can’t help the feeling that every single guard on the property is watching me. In reality, they’re minding their own damn business, probably wondering why the fuck they’ve been called to walk circles around the property all night.

A pathway comes up and I hesitate. If I take it, I draw attention to myself, but if I don’t, I’m going to end up walking the same path for hours. It’s mostly masked in shadow, and I realize that this could very well be my only shot at this.

My knees shake but I keep putting one foot in front of the other until I’m moving onto the path. I start walking up toward the mansion at the top of the hill, bypassing other guards and keeping my head down. No one pays attention to me, and I sure as fuck don’t raise my head to pay any to them.

The pathway is long, and just when I think I’m getting away with it, a voice cuts through the silence. “Yo, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” a guard questions from his post to the side of the path.

My eyes bug out of my head, and I scramble for anything to say as I spare a sideways glance, trying to keep my face concealed. I’m supposed to be playing the role of a guard, and for a moment, I consider telling him that I’m due for my break, but that’s a risk in itself. Gia probably doesn’t offer her guards breaks. So instead, I lower my voice and do my best Marcus impression. “Gotta spring a leak.”

The guard grunts, clearly not impressed, but he lets me pass. “Make it quick. Boss bitch will have your ass if she catches you slacking.”

I force a scoff through my throat. “Yeah, man. I’ll make it quick.”

I pass by him like a fucking tornado tearing through a quiet town. Fast and straight to the fucking point. I don’t know how the hell I got away with that one. It must be the late hour and the double shift this guy is probably pulling. Either way, I don’t plan to linger.

Moving up the pathway, I finally reach the main house. I stand around the back of the property, not daring to plaster myself so obviously at the front of the home. The property has been done up with spectacular gardens and a pool that I would die for. There are three separate outdoor dining areas just on this side of the property, and I realize that during my week here, I really didn’t take enough time to appreciate everything that Gia built. Not going to lie, had she had a heart inside that chest of hers and if she was a decent person, maybe I would have enjoyed being her daughter. Might have even visited every now and then.

Fuck that. I learned a while ago that people are never who they appear to be, and Gia is the perfect example of that.

Moving deeper through the outdoor entertaining area, I try to figure out a plan. I can’t exactly smash my way through a window like I did at the DeAngelis mansion. I mean, why do all these asshole mafia bosses have to have mega-mansions, and why do I feel the need to keep breaking into them? This is so fucked up and definitely not the life I dreamed of while I was in high school. But then, what girl wouldn’t dream of having fiercely loyal men like the DeAngelis brothers railing her every night? Not gonna lie, if breaking into homes is what I have to do to keep the wicked, kinky railing going, then that’s what I’m going to do.

I sidle right up against the side of the house and try to put together a plan. I’m not so stupid to walk straight through the back door, so it has to be a window. But which one to tackle is the ultimate question. Which one is going to cause the least amount of trouble for me?

My stomach clenches and twists with nervous anticipation as I pass by one of the many formal living rooms and come to a stop as a guard stands out on the back porch, a puff of smoke blowing out in front of him. The side door is open just a fraction and hope surges through me.

I can’t say I’ve ever caught myself being thankful for cigarettes. It’s always been drummed into me that cigarettes will kill me, but tonight, one of those little cancer sticks might just save my life.

The guard stands a little further out from the building, not wanting the smoke to blow back into the mansion and get caught. Something tells me that Gia isn’t one of those bosses to be overly happy about her guards slacking on the job and taking cigarette breaks, but the fact he’s chosen this particular spot suggests that perhaps there may be a blind spot in her security surveillance, and I intend to take full advantage of it.

Sneaking closer to the guard, I keep my wits about me, using the stealth and silence the boys trained me with while drawing my trusty knife. I’m not going to lie, I wish I had the strength to simply snap a grown man’s spine with a twist of his neck like the boys do, but it’s just not in the cards for me. So, until I find something easier, I’m left with the good old slit throat. It’s messy, but it’ll have to do.

The asshole doesn’t even see me coming. One second, he’s puffing away on his cigarette, his attention focused on his phone, the next, my hand is knotted in his hair, yanking his head back and the sharp blade is sailing across his throat.

He drops like a heavy sack of shit, and I groan at the mess he leaves behind. He’s out in the open and anyone could come by his body, but what choice do I have? If I drag him away and hide his body, there’s going to be a long ass trail of blood left behind which is going to be just as obvious as stumbling across the body.

Oh well, I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t. It’s not like I’m about to go searching for a garden hose and spend an insane amount of time cleaning up after myself. That’s simply not on the agenda tonight.

Not wanting to waste any more time on it, I leave the guy to be found and slip in through the back door, making sure to pull it closed behind me. The formal living room I step into is beautiful. Everywhere I look is white marble, and the plush white carpet beneath my shoes is the best kind of carpet money can buy.

The thought has my gaze drifting down to my feet, and I gape at the blood I’ve just marched across the room, the blood staining my fingers and destroying literally every object I’ve come in contact with.

Well, shit. That also hadn’t been on the agenda today.

Going against everything I believe in, I scuff my shoes against the white carpet, wiping off every little smear of blood, rubbing until the soles of my shoes are crystal clear and absolutely destroying the expensive carpet in the process. Then just to add salt to the wound, I crouch down and wipe the blood from my hands as well.

It’s a necessary evil. I can’t afford to make tracks and have someone follow me through the mansion. It’s the same as drawing a target in the center of my forehead and firing a gun in the middle of the place to draw attention to myself. Covering my tracks is common sense, and with everything already working against me, I have to do what little I can to protect myself. Plus, I can just hear the bullshit Roman would have thrown at me had I allowed that to happen.

Certain that I won’t be making any more tracks, I make my way through the formal living room, stopping behind oversized vases and curtains to get a feel for the rooms I’m about to enter. I hear guards and staff deeper in the house, but from where I’m standing, I don’t see anything.

I’m not foolish enough to believe that Gia is fast asleep in her bed all the way upstairs. She’s making her way around here somewhere. My only hope is that she’s holed up in her office, leaving her guards to do all her dirty work.

Convinced that the coast is clear, I sprint through the formal living room and through the adjoining foyers before finding the main entrance with the double staircase that I’d once thought was the best feature of the mansion. Taking a risk, I circle right around the over-done staircase and let out a shaky breath. I’ve been out in the open for far too long, taking too many risks, but I’m so close. I have to keep going.

Moving around the final corner of the grand staircase, just as I’d done a million times during my week here, I sail through the adjoining hallway and bring myself to a stop outside the elevator that goes down into the training facility below.

I always assumed the training room was the lowest part of the mansion. Zeke was always the one to press the button, and I never took it upon myself to notice if there were any levels below, but this elevator has to be the way down there. I spent hours searching this place before getting sidetracked learning that the boys were still alive, and during my searching, I didn’t find anything else that could possibly suggest another way down to the cells below.

My hand slams down over the call button as my heart races. The stupid thing moves like a fucking snail, and I look back over my shoulder, certain that if I’m going to get sprung, now is going to be the time.