Gather The Ashes || Stilinski || Book Three

Eighteen

"A THOUSAND DOLLARS?"

Stiles echoed the price that fell from Brunski's mouth in disbelief. He arrived with Lydia at Eichen House only a few minutes prior and were trying to convince Brunski to let them into the filing cabinet. "To use one little key to open up one little file room? Are you out of your mind?"

The head orderly smirked, stating, "When you get the keys, you make the price."

"Right," Stiles muttered under his breath before raising his voice to ask, "Do you actually think we have that kind of money?"

"Oh, I know you don't." Brunski didn't even blink, snapping, "If you did, Daddy Sheriff would've paid the bill by now." His eyes shifted to Lydia, who hadn't uttered a word. "That's why I'm talking to her."

Lydia held her tongue, inhaling sharply in annoyance as she pulled her wallet out of her purse. Glancing at Stiles, she then looked down at the cash in the pocket. "I have two hundred," she revealed, staring at Brunski straight in the eye so he'd know she was telling the truth. His smirk widened, leading her to begrudgingly toss the money on his desk.

Brunski turned around in his office chair, wanting to turn off his music since he'd be leaving.

Stiles froze at the sight of a cassette player, instantly thinking of how the Benefactor was known to put tapes with the bags of money received after a kill. Lydia seemed to be on the same page as she slightly elbowed him in the ribs.

They exchanged worried glances, but Brunski didn't notice as he sighed in contentment, literally smelling the money he had just received. He stood up, his smirk still ever present as he grabbed his keys. "Follow me."

Lydia showed signs of hesitation, but Stiles nodded once for her to follow him. The two stayed close together and it didn't take them long to reach the records room. "You good?" Brunski asked once he unlocked the door, letting them inside.

"Yeah," Stiles answered him, "We can help ourselves." Stepping away from him, he turned to Lydia and lowered his voice, "Do you have the list?"

Lydia pulled it out of her purse and handed it to him, casting a worried look at Brunski, who had moved to guard the door. Stiles studied the list of names in his hand, figuring it was best to just start at the top.

Parrish told them at the police station earlier that every name had committed suicide within the past ten years at Eichen House. But Lydia knew there had to be more to the story. That's why she and Stiles were there— to figure out the truth.

Stiles's breath got caught in his throat at a scribble at the bottom of the paper, knowing it wasn't there before.

"Lydia," he called her over quietly. "Why did you write another name on here?"

"I didn't write anything," Lydia replied, puzzled.

Stiles pointed to the deadpool, "This is your handwriting."

"Why would I write another name?" she wondered out loud, her brows furrowed.

"Why would you write mine?"

"It was the tapes," Brunski's gravelly voice caught their attention, him appearing right beside them between two support beams. "Wasn't it?"

Stiles didn't have time to react, the orderly pressing the taser from his hand into Stiles's stomach.

Stiles collapsed to the floor, his body spazzing as Brunski chuckled darkly, turning to Lydia. "Your turn, sweetheart."

*^*^*^*^*

When Stiles and Lydia came to, they were no longer freely standing. Still in the records room, Brunski had handcuffed them with their backs to the support beams. Brunski disappeared, leaving them alone with no escape.