Page 42 of Darkest Before Dawn (His Perfect Darkness #2)

T his warehouse is smaller. Older.

The first thing I do is kick something. It goes skittering across the floor, rolling into a patch of light. A flashlight.

Did BK leave it for me? I clear the area and keep my head up when I crouch to pick the flashlight up. I deliberate for a moment. Should I keep it off and try to sneak around in here, or use it even though it leaves me without a free hand?

In the end, I flick it on and blink to adjust my eyes to its full brightness. I swing the beam in a circle, feeling braver. Normally, I’d use the flashlight on my phone, but BK made me surrender it.

The beam illuminates the far brick walls, stained black with soot. There are a few scattered feathers on the concrete floor.

I pace onwards, scanning for any movement with my gun at ready. If I’m going to die, I’ll take BK with me.

But I can’t kill BK without saving the family first.

I find them in the middle of the warehouse. Their bodies are lying in a circle, tied together. A brunette woman and two school-age children. Beyond them, a lanky, balding man is stretched out. I can’t see clearly, but he looks a lot like Ted. Must be his brother.

I shine the light on each face, but no one moves. My breath shorts out, but I push down my panic and focus on the mother. She’s alive. I let the light linger on the rise and fall of her chest long enough to make sure. She’s breathing. They all are. They’re not dead, only unconscious.

The family is surrounded by barbed wire. And worse, there are small cardboard boxes with wires spiraling out of them, duct-taped together and placed inside the barbed wire barrier near the family. These have to be explosive devices.

I approach slowly but keep my distance. The family is right there, and I can’t even touch them. Can’t shake them awake or drag them out to save them from their doom.

BK knew I would come to save them. He made it so I couldn’t do it.

It’s so evil that it takes my breath away. How many families has he terrorized?

It ends tonight. One way or another.

Without moving, I use the flashlight to search every square inch of the space around the family. There’s no movement. No one else is here.

But I know this isn’t over. He won’t be content with blowing the building now. He’ll want to see my face and know my torment.

There’s a crackling sound, and I jerk, raising my gun in that direction.

Someone taped a walkie-talkie to a metal post near the family. They used the same silver tape that they used to secure the explosives. I pace toward it, shining the light around it as if a bogeyman might be hiding in the shadows around the post.

BK doesn’t appear, but my sense of dread increases. I circle the post and end up facing the walkie-talkie, checking for any loose wires that might hint at an explosive device near it.

The walkie crackles again, and I almost leap out of my skin. Acid pools in my stomach. I point the gun at the radio, even though I know it’s only the voice of evil and not the whole man.

Another crackle, and this time, I can make out a word.

“Inara.” It might be the walkie-talkie distorting the man’s voice, but I recognize that flat tone from when I heard it years ago in my childhood bedroom.

I tuck the flashlight under my arm so I can grab the radio without holstering my gun. I rip it off the wall, duct tape and all, and stare down at it, breathing hard.

“You came,” the Bondage Killer says.

I don’t reply. He wanted me here, and I’m here. I need to say something, but I can’t force the words out of my throat.

It’s hard enough to hold it together.

And it doesn’t matter, because this is the Bondage Killer’s show. “Take the stairs.”

I have my gun in one hand and the walkie-talkie in the other. I clip the walkie to my belt and swing the flashlight around to find the stairs he’s talking about. They’re in the middle of the room, zigzagging up several stories.

I don’t know how long I hesitate before BK radios again. “Do it, or they die. Now.”

I really am going to be sick. Saliva pools in my mouth. I take a deep breath in through my nose and spit into the dust at my feet. Gotta hold it together. I can’t wig out now. Ted is counting on me.

It takes everything to leave the family and walk to the metal stairs.

I can only hope Ted called for help. I can’t get the family out, not with them rigged to explode.

After Burgess and the warehouse, I know BK isn’t bluffing.

He’ll blow us all sky-high. I’ve got one shot to do this right.

If I can distract him long enough for help to arrive, the family might make it out of here alive.

I probably won’t walk out of here, but they will, and it’ll be enough.

It takes forever for me to climb the stairs. I do it slowly, hoping to give the cavalry more time to arrive. I don’t like relying on Ted, but I do have faith that Rex will do what it takes to find me.

I could’ve called Rex immediately, and he’d be at my back now. Scratch that; he wouldn’t have let me come at all, and Ted’s family would suffer the same fate that Burgess did.

No, I made the right choice. I had to come alone.

I pause on the landing at the second floor, shining the flashlight around the abandoned space. The light catches on a set of glittering eyes in the corner. Some sort of vermin has made its home here and disappears with a scuttling sound.

The walkie at my collarbone comes alive. “Keep climbing,” BK rasps, and my body physically recoils. I want to rip this thing off of me and never hear BK’s voice again. “All the way to the roof.”

I crane my head upwards. There are several more stories before I reach the top of the building. I’d rather stay down here with the rats.

“I’m waiting for you,” BK singsongs. “Come to me, my Swallow.”

Bile spurts into my mouth and galvanizes me into action.

I press and hold down the largest button and snap out a “Fuck you” into the walkie-talkie.

It’s not a good idea to antagonize the serial killer who holds more than my life in his hands, but seriously, fuck him.

If I’m going out, I’m going on my terms. “You don’t get to call me that,” I tell him and use the surge of energy that anger gives me to power up another set of steps.

I pause on the next landing. BK holds the cards, but I have something he wants. “Let the family go.”

“They’re free to leave at any time.” He sniggers, knowing full well the family is unconscious and tied up. I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches.

His laughing turns into a coughing fit, and the transmission cuts out. I wait, but he doesn’t say anything more, even though I’ve stalled on the steps.

“You’ve already won,” I tell him. “You have me. You don’t even want them, so why not let them go?”

No answer. I keep climbing, moving slowly but steadily. “I surrendered my cell phone, but you can call the police.”

He’s still silent, but I bet he’s listening. I pace around another corner, sending the flashlight’s searching light over every inch of the next flight of stairs before continuing my ascent.

“You have all the power. You can call for help. You’ll still have me.” I’ll gladly trade myself for the family. “And I’m who you really want, right?”

Still no answer, but there’s some movement down below. A shadow darting across the ground floor. Is it Ted, finding his courage to creep inside and free his family?

Or did Rex find me?

I wait, watching for more clues, but there’s no more movement. But it gives me hope that someone is down there, helping Ted’s family.

With that thought energizing me, I finish my climb. I can stall for time and keep BK distracted.

I press the PTT button and say, “Hello? Are you still there?”

“Keep climbing. All the way to the roof.”

Was that a flicker of light on the ground floor? It gives me the courage to try something,

“Not until you admit that I’m the one you want,” I test. “Not them. Me.” Maybe if I act possessive of him, it’ll surprise and excite him.

The silence stretches long enough that I worry I’ve put him off. Maybe he won’t like me jostling for control of the situation? I’m supposed to be the victim, after all.

But something tells me he wants a worthy adversary. Someone worth all the trouble he’s gone through to haunt me.

“All right,” he sounds pleased. “You’re the one I want.”

He’s in a good mood; I can use that to my advantage.

“I’m coming,” I tell him.

The stairwell ends at an open door. The night air is cool on my face as I step onto the gravel-covered roof.

There’s no sign of BK. I set down the flashlight. I don’t need it, not with the ambient light of the city.

“Hello?” I call. “Dennis?” I use BK’s first name. He’s spent all these years obsessed with me and probably feels close to me. I’ll do my best to encourage that.

I let my gun precede me and start clearing the roof. Multiple large HVAC units block my view of the entire surface.

I’m halfway across the roof when I get a sense that someone is behind me. I whirl, gun raised, but there’s nothing but shadows.

“Hello?” I call again. I want to call Rex’s name, but I’m not going to clue BK in that I have help. Please let it be him.

“This way,” BK calls from the opposite direction, the one that will lead me further out on the roof.

I keep walking, inching around a large metal AC unit, and there he is. A slumped form in a chair, shrouded in a dark coat. I can’t see his face, only the top of his head, and even that is in shadow.

I stare at him, my gun raised.

“Put down your gun,” he orders.

“No.” I grip it tighter, aiming for his torso. “I’m here. Just like you wanted. And you’re under arrest.”

He starts laughing, and once again, it ends in a wheezing cough. Even from a distance, I can tell that a sour smell hangs around him. But I don’t know if it’s real or my psychic impression.

“It’s no use,” he says and raises his head out of the shadow. I flinch at what I see. There are patches of shiny skin-like scar tissue mottling his face. Like he’s been badly burned.

He didn’t have those scars the last time I saw him.