34. Jeremiah

Chapter 34

Jeremiah

R ed lights, stop signs—they all blur together as I push the bike to its limits, weaving through traffic with recklessness. I can't lose her again. Thank fuck I shared her location months ago.

The campus edges into view, and I grit my teeth, leaning harder into the turns. Just hold on, baby. I'm coming for you. And God help anyone stupid enough to get in my way.

We screech to a halt outside the library, and I'm off the bike before it's fully stopped. The doors are locked, but that's not about to stop me. I hurl my shoulder into the glass, and it shatters with an ear-splitting crash.

Shards rain down around us as we charge inside, but I barely register the stinging cuts. Inside, it's like we've stepped into a waking nightmare. The main hall is trashed, books and furniture strewn about. My boots crunch on broken glass as I move deeper, scanning the wreckage for any sign of where my girl is.

My gaze sweeps through the lobby, landing on a crumpled form near the front desk. A cold fist closes around my heart as I take in the blood pooling beneath the body. The world tilts violently, nausea clawing at my throat as I fight down the scream building in my chest.

"Oh God. Oakley," I choke out, staggering forward.

But Graham grabs my arm, his grip like iron as he pulls me back.

"That's not her," he murmurs, his voice grim. "Look closer."

I blink, forcing myself to focus, and realization slams into me like a sledgehammer to the chest. It's that nosy bitch from the library, Cindy, or whatever her name was. She was always snapping her fucking gum and leering at me. She's lying in a twisted heap, her eyes open and glassy, throat brutally torn open.

"She was just shitty collateral, I guess," Graham mutters as his eyes access the same scene as me.

A low growl rumbles in my chest as I turn in a slow circle, scanning every inch of the lobby. There's no sign of Oakley, but a scuffed trail of blood leads deeper into the stacks.

"She's gotta be here somewhere," I mutter, more to myself than Graham. "Who the hell is this fucking guy? And where the fuck is the water boy I sent to fucking keep an eye on her?"

As if in answer, a muffled thump echoes from somewhere below us, like something heavy hitting the floor. My head whips toward the sound, zeroing in on the door marked Employees Only near the back corner.

"Oakley?" I call out, the name ripping free before I can stop it. Stupid, reckless, giving away our position to God knows what's waiting around the next corner.

But I don't care. If she's here, if she can hear me…I'll risk anything for that chance.

There's no response, just that endless, labored breathing. It's coming from up ahead, from the direction of the study rooms. A cold fist clenches in my gut as we approach.

I'm moving before I can think, Graham hot on my heels as we barrel through the door. A harsh voice drifts up from the darkness.

"…won't be getting away this time, my dear."

A feral snarl rips from my throat as we reach the corner and see a cracked door. The storage room is dimly lit, boxes and shelves casting long, twisted shadows along the walls. And there, huddled in the far corner was some tweed and glasses wearing motherfucker.

Goddamn Giles wannabe turns just as I reach him, his piggy eyes widening comically behind his glasses. But he doesn't have a chance to react before my hands are around his throat, slamming him back against the concrete wall.

"You're gonna pay for this, you sick piece of shit," I snarl, leaning until our faces are inches apart. "I'm gonna make you beg for death before I'm through with you. Already got one body on my hands tonight, might as well add to the count."

He struggles, clawing at my hands, but I don't budge. I could snap his neck with barely any effort at all. Part of me wants to, wants to watch the life fade from his eyes and know he'll never hurt her again.

I want Oakley to watch. I want her to see him suffer, to see what I'll do for. How I will protect her and slay all her demons?

Graham is there in an instant. He shoots me a look, a silent question in his eyes.

Kill him or not?

Every ounce of strength and weight in my body slams this fucker against the brick wall, over and over until I let go of his throat. He grapples for air, but I steal it from him with a kick to the gut. He did something to my girl, so now he's gonna feel my ire.

Don't fuck with what belongs to a Blackwood.

Don't fuck with what belongs to me.

I turn back to the sick fuck, taking in his mottled, purpling face and the stark terror in his bulging eyes. The rage is still there, burning through my veins. But there's something else, too. Something darker, more vicious.

This bastard doesn't deserve the mercy of a quick death.

A cruel smile curves my lips as I lean in close, my voice a low, deadly purr.

"You're not getting off that easy, asshole. You're gonna wish you were dead by the time I'm done with you."

I feel the wet spray of blood hit my cheek as he spits at me and I wipe it off, knowing that's the last thing he'll get to do.

"Where is she?" I demand, not caring if he can understand me or not. I need to hear it.

His eyes find me, reddened slits in the ruin of his face. His lips move again, shaping words I can't make out. I crouch beside him, uncaring of the blood soaking into my jeans as I lean in close. He tries to speak, jaw working like a landed fish, but all that comes out is a wet, gurgling cough that splatters even more crimson across his own face.

"Oakley," I growl, so close I can smell the copper tang of his life leaking away. "Where?"

"Freezer."

He took her to the one place she couldn't fight back from. Couldn't scream or run or be heard. A cold, silent vault to leave her trapped and helpless.

"You sick fuck," I snarl, grabbing him by the front of his ruined shirt and hauling him up until our faces are almost touching. "What's she doing there, huh? What'd you do? "

"Tell me!" I roar, giving the man a vicious shake that has his head lolling bonelessly. "If you've hurt her, I'll?—"

"N-no…" It's barely more than a gurgle, but it stops me cold. "Didn't…she's mine…"

"Motherfucker!" I hurl him away from me in a burst of rage and frustration, his broken body slamming back into the floor with a meaty thud.

"Jeremiah, we need to go." Graham's voice cuts through the red haze, fogging my vision. "If she's in the freezer…"

We turn and head for the stairs that will take us down into the belly of this place.

Finally, we reach the bottom, moving past the basement storage until we reach a corridor opening up into a wide space lined with heavy steel doors—the library's archival freezers. My breath fogs in front of me as I scan them, dread and urgency warring in my chest.

"Which one?" Graham's voice is hushed.

I open my mouth to answer, but the words freeze in my throat as another sound reaches us. A faint, muffled whimper, little more than the barest of sound, but it ignites the nerves in my body like a lightning strike.

"Bunny?" I call out, heart in my throat as I strain to trace the noise to its source.

There it is again, a little stronger this time. My feet are moving before I can think, carrying me down the row of freezer rooms until I'm standing before the largest of them all.

"Oakley, baby, I'm here!" I shout, grabbing the latch and wrenching it open with every ounce of desperate strength I possess.

The door swings wide to reveal the black void within, a cloying wave of icy stale air billowing out to swallow us whole .

There, huddled in the far corner, a shivering lump of fabric that turns itself into the shape of a person as I move closer. A whimper, weak and trembling, escapes those shapeless folds.

"Oakley?" I breathe, daring to hope.

"J-Jerem…" Her voice is little more than a cracked whisper, the breath pluming from her lips in vaporous clouds. "Is it…really you?"

"Yeah, bunny," I choke out, dropping to my knees in front of her and reaching out with a trembling hand. "It's me. I've got you now."

She makes a small, wounded noise in the back of her throat, like a broken thing trying to become whole again. Then her fingers are tangling with mine, shockingly cold and fragile in my grip.

"Thought I was…going to die." Her words are slurred, heavy, and it's all I can do not to gather her up and crush her against me.

"You're not going anywhere, you hear me?" I growl, leaning in until our faces are inches apart. I can see the fear swimming in her eyes, the disbelief and relief warring there.

"J-Jeremiah…" It's half a sob, half a sigh of surrender as she crumples forward into my arms.