Page 147 of Risky Obsession
With our shoulders together, we looked down the shaft.
“Another tunnel,” I said.
Her eyes dazzled in the light from my phone.
A ladder was attached to the wall of the shaft, and the bottom was about ten feet down and looked like bare concrete.
“This is so exciting,” Lacey squealed.
“I know. Ladies first,” I said.
“No, I want you to.” She draped her hand over my wrist. “This is for your pops.”
A swell of emotion washed through me, and my fucking heart felt like she just made a crack through it.
“Thanks,” I managed to say.
Before I pulled her gorgeous lips to my mouth, I climbed down the rusty ladder. At the bottom, I shone the light up for Lacey and got a spectacular view of her ass as she scurried down to me.
“This has to be it.” Her words gushed out with a breath as she rubbed her arms.
“We’re about to find out.” I panned the light around us.
We stood in an arched tunnel that had been carved into the rocks. My heart thundered in my ears as I followed the beam of my light deeper into the tunnel.
If my bearings were right, we were heading underneath the office we’d just left.
My assumption was confirmed when the square hole that had been in the floor above, became a shaft of dim light that lit up a small room.
Lacey stepped into the room with me. A row of metal-legged chairs was stacked against one wall. A small wooden table with two seats sat near them and on the table was a dinner setting with two metal plates, cutlery nestled on cloth napkins, and two copper mugs in position.
“That’s weird,” Lacey said.
“Maybe it was the last supper setting,” I said.
On the far side of the room, a series of large wooden crates were stacked neatly against the wall.
Lacey and I both hitched a breath.
She squeezed my hand as we walked to them.
“I can hardly breathe,” she said.
“Me neither.”
Each of the dozen or so crates had a serial number stamped on the outside and all had rusty padlocks. I rattled the lock, but it was too solid to break.
Lacey ran to the table and returned with the two dinner knives.
“Moment of truth.” Her voice was thick with emotion as she handed one of the knives to me. I drank her in, the excitement in her stunning blue eyes, her lips that I desperately wanted to kiss.
She was the perfect partner to find this gold with me.
Maybethiswas Pops’ idea all along.
I gave her the phone, and she shone the light on the lock.
Rather than try to break the steel lock, I wedged the knife into the latch connected to the metal crate and yanked it hard. The latch flew off, taking the lock with it, and clattered to the concrete floor.