Page 49 of Vicious Lies

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I really hope he’s right because the idea of being stuck down here, for even a night, has my stomach twisting in knots.

While Jagger puts his detective skills to work, I look around at some of the documents on the desk. I pick up a newspaper article dated back to 1963. My eyes skim over the words that focus on the murder of a lady named Betty Beckett. Nothing about it rings a bell, so I set it back down and pick up an old photo of a couple. It’s in black and white, but I smile at the sweet gesture of a man kissing the woman’s cheek. Time changes so many things, but at least love still exists today.

“I think I found something,” Jagger says, and I drop the picture and head his way. He’s only a foot away with the light held up.

My gaze snaps over to him and he’s no longer looking at a wall; instead, he’s looking up.

One big step and I’m beside him. I follow his gaze to a square outline in the ceiling, where it looks like there’s some sort of an insert. “Do you think it’s a door?”

He kicks an old box, and I assume it’s to see if it’s full enough for him to stand on, but when his foot goes through it and it gets stuck, I bite back laughter.

“Motherfucker!” He kicks it off, getting himself all worked up. He looks at me and I roll my lips together. “Something funny?”

“Not at all.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a footstool sitting under the desk I was just at. I walk over and grab it, then hand it to a fuming Jagger.

Finally, he cracks a smile and passes me the light. Before he puts the stool to use, he swoops an arm around my waist and pulls me snug to his chest, the light serving as a barrier between us. His eyes land on mine before he kisses me, making all my worries disappear momentarily. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sets the stool down right beneath the cutout in the ceiling and steps on it. His fingers slide along the ridges. “I don’t think I can get a good grip on it.” He looks down at me. “See if you can find a crowbar or anything I can shove in there to try and pry it open.”

The light begins to flicker even more and I can tell we’re running out of time. Carrying it close to my chest, I search the room for anything that might help us.

“Hey,” Jagger says, his palm pressed to the ceiling, bracing himself. “Grab me that pipe I had earlier. I set it on the shelf over there.” He tips his head to the right.

Hurried steps lead me over to it.

“Quickly,” Jagger says, rushing me along.

Picking up my pace, I get back to him and hand him the pipe. “Someone’s pushy tonight,” I tease, only finding humor right now because I’m hopeful this will be our escape.

“We need to get the fuck out of here before Crew and Neo realize we’re gone.” He shoves the pointed edge of the pipe into one of the cracks. “All shit will hit the fan if we don’t.”

“Ya know. I’ve never understood that statement. When does shit ever hit a fan?”

“I don’t know either, but it’s fitting.” He pushes harder, then bends, causing the pipe to dent in the middle. “Come on, you damn thing.” Using his forearm, he wipes away the sweat beading on his hairline.

The next thing I know, a three-foot square in the ceiling is opening and Jagger is jumping off the stool so it doesn’t hit him.

My arms fly around him. “You did it!”

Finally, the tension in his expression fades. I’m swept up in his arms and he spins me around. “Hell yeah!”

As soon as he sets me down, he goes back over and looks up. “There’s a pull ladder.” He steps back on the stool, reaching up. Once he has a good grip on the rope, he jumps off the stool, pulling the ladder down with him.

“This is insane. Where do you think it goes?”

His brows hit his forehead. “Don't know, but we’re about to find out. Come on.” He nods toward the ladder. He goes up a couple steps then offers me his hand. My fingers wrap around his, while I cradle the light under my other arm. We ascend together, me directly behind him.

As we’re going up, Jagger drops something. “Wait,” I tell him, bending down and picking up the folded square paper and holding it out to him. “You dropped this.”

“Just put it in your pocket and you can give it to me later.”

The light flickers again, and this time, it goes completely out. “Oh no!”

We’re left in complete darkness, on a ladder that extends from a secret room in a tunnel to God knows where.


Tags: Rachel Leigh Romance