Page 30 of Buried in Blood

He shrugs. “I’m saying this place has holes. Crawl spaces. Dead spots in the cameras. If I wanted to disappear, I could do it here in my sleep.”

My skin goes cold despite the heat.

“I thought you said you checked the greenhouse cameras.”

“I checked the ones Damien told me about,” he says, and there’s a glint in his eye that makes me feel like I’m standing on the edge of something sharp. “But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t added new ones.”

A breeze cuts through the trees, and I shiver, rubbing the back of my arms. The sweat there has gone cold.

“She’s going to get us both killed,” I whisper.

Reese’s jaw ticks.

“No,” he says. “You’ll get yourself killed. I’m just the extra body they bury to make a point.”

I don’t laugh. I can’t.

He’s not wrong.

We stand there in silence, the kind that presses against your chest and dares you to breathe through it.

Then he breaks it.

“We’ll check the maintenance tunnels under the main house next,” he says.

“Those are sealed,” I protest.

“They were,” he replies. “Damien had them reopened last month. Said he enjoyed having options.”

Of course, he fucking did. I follow Reese as he starts back toward the house, every step louder than the last.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I don’t know how much longer I have.

But I know what happens if I fail.

He sells me.

And this time… I don’t think I’ll survive it.

* * *

Monday, 1:35 p.m.

The tunnel smells of copper and mildew. Damp stone walls press in on both sides, and the single bulb overhead flickers like it’s about to give up.

I wish it would.

Maybe if the light dies, I won’t have to see the way Reese is looking at me.

“Careful,” he mutters, grabbing my arm as I trip over a broken tile.

I don’t thank him. I can’t. My heart’s lodged too far up my throat.

We keep walking, footsteps echoing behind us like ghosts trailing our movements. I don’t know what Damien used these tunnels for before, but I know they weren’t meant for escape. They were built for control. For secrets. For storage… of things that don’t belong in daylight.

“Do you really think she’d come down here?” I ask.