TOXIC BLOODLINES: PARADISE - BOOK 2/4

SEEING RED

ARIK

Remember, you are here to hear them out. Do not make any promises. Quick in, quick out. "Please don't let this be a mistake," I pushed Cerberus on the intercom. Waiting for them to buzz me in, I checked my phone to see if Kim had read any of the messages I had sent her. By the one-word reply, I knew she was still pissed at me for leaving... again. "What are you doing here, man?" I rested back in my seat for a few more seconds. When nobody opened the gates, I rolled down my windows to push the button again. "Come on," I grumbled.

Resting back in my seat, I stared at the tall concrete walls that went on for miles. Why would they need this? The walls were about 15 feet tall, on top were spikes and Barbed wire. "Trespassers will be shot," I read the sign on the gate. "Hmph, of course." Losing my patience, I pushed the button on the intercom again for the last time. If they didn't open up, I'd turn back. But the sound of chatter on the other side of the gate let me know someone was home. "Hellooo!" I called out, honking my horn. "Can you open up!" I waited. Nothing. "Fuck this," I started at my engine.

I was about to reverse out of the driveway when the gate opened. It was not enough for me to drive through but enough for a mean-looking guard to walk out. If looks could kill. She walked over to my car, I read the name tag. J. Sinclair. I switched off my engine.

Sinclair tapped my window. "License and registration," she asked.

I laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Do I look like a comedian?" Sinclair kept a straight face.

"This is ridiculous," I grumbled.

After I gave her my license and documentation, she looked at it and then at me. "Cute," she chuckled.

"I'm gonna ask for you to step out of the vehicle, Mr. Jaeger," Sinclair ordered.

"Is all this necessary? You guys know me. Ian knows I was coming," I tried to explain.

"Step out of the car, or I will drag you out. The choice is yours," she stared me down.

"Fucking hell," I switched off the engine and stepped out, and she began her search of the vehicle.

Sinclair pulled out my gun from the glove compartment. "Nice piece," she admired it. "I'm gonna hold onto this. Hands against the vehicle."

"Come on," I complained.

"We can't be too careful," she told me.

Complying, I placed my hands on the hood of my car. The heat burned my palms as she patted me down. "Find anything?"

"You're good to go." Sinclair walked back to the gate and whistled. "Open up! You, pretty boi, hands behind your head." As the gates opened, five armed guys came out and then escorted me in.

Walking through the gates, I was shocked to see how much this place had changed. On my right, I counted at least twelve armored trucks, and three riot tanks parked in the lot. On my left, was an outside gym where the shed used to be. A couple of guys were sparring in a sand pit. And out in the pasture, I saw other buildings under construction. And all around, guards in uniforms patrolled the yard. It was practically a military base, all that was missing were a couple of tanks and helicopters.

Sheesh.

Then I saw the concrete walls and blacked-out windows. It was the base of operations where the cottage used to be. This wasn't the simple wooden guest house Conner ran things from anymore. It was hard to believe that just five years ago, this was a quiet farm. The only thing left of its humble roots was Conner's house across the yard. It stuck out like a sore thumb on a patch of green, surrounded by pure Ian.