The air was thick with the scent of drugs, alcohol, and other foul odors that made Noah's stomach churn violently. He recoiled, his hand flying to his nose.
Damien's pose remained dangerous, trained, and unaffected.
"Shit! What's with this awful smell? Are you sure this guy is normal?" Noah cursed beneath his breath, his chest clenching uncomfortably. "I can't even breathe properly."
Damien shot him a glance. "I told you to wait in the car."
Despite his discomfort, Noah maintained a haughty expression. "I need to beat this asshole to a pulp first. Where is he?"
Noah tightened his grip around the small sack he had brought along—the one they intended to wrap around the pervert's face to drag him out.
"Don't move. It might be dangerous. I'll check the bedroom," Damien said, slipping away toward the room across from them.
Grabbing the doorknob, Damien pulled it open quietly and stepped inside. His expression hardened at the sight of a figure lying beneath the blankets.
