Page 62 of Raine

“Jealous?”

“Hardly. Let’s go, asshole.”

I turn to look at him, and the smirk on his face irritates me. He’s wearing one of his normal dark suits, minus the tie and jacket.

“Lead the way, little girl.”

“Fuck you!”

“You would if you had half a chance.”

“Such a child.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m definitely going to need a drink for this,” I curse, unscrewing the top and taking a healthy swig.

“Don’t get sloshed, Raine; we have shit to do,” Acheron warns, and I place the cap back on the bottle.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

We exit the club through the back and hop into Acheron’s car. He waves goodbye to Sniper as I slink lower into the seat, not wanting to be seen with the asshole.

“Embarrassed of me, Raine?”

“Shut up. How long is it until we’re there?”

“Twenty-five minutes with the way I drive. Hold on,” he warns, dumping the clutch, and we speed off into the night. I welcome the feeling for the briefest of moments and close my eyes.

The street is unnaturally quiet when we arrive, much like the drive over was. Clara’s house is the quietest of them all, and I watch as Acheron surveys the area before creeping around the back and parking.

He turns to me with one hand on the door handle and the other holding his mask. “You ready?”

“Always.”

“Good. Let’s get this shit done.”

I slide my mask into place, then follow Acheron to the gate at the back of Clara’s house and watch as he unlatches it, looking over his shoulder at me and checking the surroundings before entering.

We walk into the backyard, our guns in hand. The two-story home stands ominously in front of us. There is a heaviness in the air, one I know all too intimately, and I know we are about to walk into a horror show.

Acheron motions to my hands, and I realize I haven’t put my gloves on like him. I quickly pull them from the side of my skirt and slide my fingers into them.

He nods his head once, and we head up the couple of stairs to the house, avoiding the kids toys scattered around the decking area. Acheron places his hand on the sliding door and pulls on it. It moves freely and slides across to open fully.

“Fuck me,” I grouse, bringing my forearm to my nose to stifle the fetid smell that has just smacked me in the face.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Acheron hisses, stepping inside the dark house.

I hear the click of a gun before he does, and I jump, my body moving of its own admissions. “Move!” I shout, shoving Acheron to the floor as a shot rings out.

“The fuck?” he growls, rolling me off his back and underneath him.

His heart is beating frantically in his chest against mine as he searches for the culprit. When he spots him, he motions for me to move out from underneath him, and I do so, army crawling to the lounge that’s laying haphazardly a few meters away.

Acheron rolls, then stands up, cocking his gun and firing in the direction of the shooter. Three shots ring out along with a string of curse words and screams, the silencer helping to lessen the noise.

He stomps toward the screaming male and switches on the light. I move from my crouched position but stop when I hear a cracking sound. Turning around, I step over the discarded furniture lying around the space. The floor is littered with glass and debris, and I wonder how long it’s been since there was any life in here.