Total pages in book: 193
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
I run for the cellar door, my only avenue of escape now, and pause long enough to confirm that the handle is cool before I rip open the door and disappear into the dark.
The cellar door slams behind me, cutting off the stream of light and plunging me into total dark. Yanking Khalil’s still-wet shirt from my face, I kneel and shove it against the seam under the door to keep the smoke out for as long as possible. I don’t bother feeling for the light switch once I’m standing again since the power will be out. Instead, I activate the lamp in my hand before creeping cautiously down the stairs while keeping one hand on the rough surface of the wall. I’m halfway down when I freeze, hearing what sounds like the entire cabin collapsing on top of me.
Well and truly trapped now, I take a calming breath and force myself to keep going toward the trapdoor and my salvation, ignoring the way my heart thuds relentlessly against my chest. I never did learn where the door led. With a sense of cold dread, I realize too late that it could be nothing or it could be exactly what I need.
Too late for second thoughts.
The more I think about my mountain men though, the more confident I grow that I’m right, and my pace quickens. Khalil, Thorin, and Zeke are too smart and keyed into their survival to build their home on the edge of a cliff with no way out except the front door.
Trapped is exactly what they’d want their enemy to think.
The fringed edge of the thick burgundy rug comes into view, and I set the lantern aside as I kneel and toss the rug aside to reveal the door.
“Argghhhh!” I scream out in frustration when I see the secured padlock barring the hatch from opening. “Goddamn it, guys!” Standing, I let my temper get the best of me as I bring my booted foot down on the metal door over and over. “You goddamn paranoid overbearing fucks!”
Through the walls, I can hear more of the cabin collapsing around me and the roar of the fire getting closer as my sweat-slicked skin becomes unbearably warm. The air down here is already becoming thick with smoke, and I feel myself getting dizzy as the coughing returns.
Defeated, I lean against the wall and close my eyes, but my head doesn’t get the message. It pushes me to keep fighting.
Think, think…
In the event the guys are separated or taken by surprise and have to get out quickly, they would have stashed the key somewhere close.
Somewhere…but where?
I’ve been down in the cellar plenty since it’s where they store their produce and the meat inside a walk-in locker in a separate room. I’ve never come across a key.
Khalil, Thorin, and Zeke built this cabin themselves, brick by brick. Metaphorically speaking, of course, since only the cellar walls are made of brick. Only they know all of its secrets, but they aren’t here. In one final goodbye, I lovingly scrape my fingers across the rough surface of the wall holding me up while it still can.
Except…
My eyes fly open. Brick doesn’t burn.
Lurching forward, I spin around to study the wall, running my hands over every inch of the surface I can reach before moving on to the opposite side like a mad person.
But I’m not mad.
They hid an escape inside the floor, for fuck’s sake. There’s absolutely no reason to think they wouldn’t hide the way in inside these walls if they wanted to keep the key close but undetected.
So I search and search and search with my heart thudding in my ears and the cloying smell of smoke filling my nostrils and singeing my lungs. In my peripheral, the door to the cellar is now a wall of flame as black smoke wafts toward me.
I’ve almost reached the last of the wall when I finally feel it.
A loosened brick that yields too easily at the tug of my fingers. I toss the brick away and hear it shatter as I stare inside the gap in the wall.
Resting inside is a small brass key.
“Yes!” Snatching it, I race back over to the hatch with the key clutched in my palm and waste no time inserting it into the lock. The shackle springs free, and I yank the lock off.
The door is heavy and creaks loudly as dust and dirt fall from the top and disappear inside the hole. I’m still fighting to get it open all the way when the cellar door behind me blows open.
“Fucking shit!” I scream when I see the door flying toward me followed by a wave of fire, wild, angry, and eager to consume me.
There’s no time for me to second-guess dropping into the hole or how far the fall will be. Holding the hatch open with one arm, I throw myself inside the gap and pray that I know my mountain men as well as I think I do.