“Are you okay?” Kat murmurs, pulling me from my thoughts. I clear my throat.
“Have you heard anything?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. “About the others?”
Are my brothers okay?
“No,” she whispers, shaking her head. “I haven’t heard anything.”
My heart sinks, but I don’t let it show. If she hasn’t heard anything, that could be good news. It could mean they’re still alive, still fighting.
The bobby pin scrapes against the metal, and I feel a small shift in the cuff. Katarina gasps softly, and I realize she’s almost got it. My heart starts to race, hope surging through me.
“Almost there,” she murmurs, her voice tense with concentration.
I hold my breath, waiting, praying that she can do this. The seconds stretch on, each one feeling like an eternity. Then, with a soft click, the cuff around my wrist falls open, and I’m halfway free.
“Oh my fucking balls,” she whisper-hisses. “Holy shit. I did it!”
I grin, excitement and hope thrumming through me. “You did so fucking good, Kat.”
She sucks in a breath, and I feel like utter shit. We don’t know eachother like that. We’re tied by shitty circumstances, but I have no doubt that when she looks at me, all she sees is another man who failed her.
Before I can apologize for using a nickname I don’t deserve to use, she’s bouncing around to my other side and starting on the second cuff.
This one goes much quicker and in minutes, the cuff is clicking free.
I don’t move, not at first. The shock of it, the realization that I’m no longer chained to the wall, takes a moment to sink in. When it does, I reach out, my hand brushing against Katarina’s. She flinches, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice rough with emotion. I pull back immediately, feeling way too exposed, too vulnerable. I’m naked, for fuck’s sake. But, goddamn, I am thankful. “I owe you my life.”
“How about you just repay me by saving mine?” She chuckles, but there’s a weight to her words and I know she means them.
“I will,” I vow. “This time, I will.”
I hear her small intake of breath as I make a bee-line for the corner where I saw my abandoned clothes. Fucking finally. I messily stumble through getting my pants on, skipping my boxers when I can’t find them in the dark. I don’t even bother with a shirt, but shove my feet into shoes, knowing I’ll need the protection.
As I dress, my mind keeps drifting back to Ella. I can’t help it. She’s always there, in the back of my mind, no matter what I’m doing. I wonder if she’s okay, if she’s safe. I wonder if she’s still out there, searching for us, or if she’s given up hope.
No. I shake my head, pushing the thought away. Ella would never give up on us. She’s too stubborn, too strong. She’s out there, I know it, and she’s fighting to get us back. I just have to hold on, to keep fighting for her.
“Gage,” Katarina’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I realize I’ve stopped. She’s looking at me, her eyes wide with fear. “I hear something.”
I freeze, straining to listen. At first, I don’t hear anything, just the pounding of my heart. But then, faintly, I hear it too. Footsteps in the distance.
“Duck under the sink,” I murmur, my voice barely more than a breath. “Cover your head. Now.”
She hesitates for a split second, then moves, scuttling to the small sink in the corner of the cell. I can hear her breath hitch as she tucks herself beneath it, her back pressed against the cold stone wall. She’s hidden, but not well, and if anyone comes in, she’ll be exposed.
I shield my eyes with one arm and, with the other, punch the exposed light bulbs in the ceiling. Glass shatters around me, raining down in a cascade of jagged edges.
In the pitch black, I fumble around, my hands sweeping across the rough floor until they find what I’m looking for—a chunk of glass. It’s sharp and perfect for what I need. My heart hammers in my chest as I grip it tightly, the edges cutting into my palm, grounding me in the here and now.
“What was that?” someone yells, their voice echoing in the distance.
My heart races and my body tenses. I turn toward the cell door, letting my eyes adjust to the change in light. It’s still dark, but outside my cell, somewhere, a faint light shines. I can’t tell if it’s natural sunlight or not. I’m pretty sure there are no working lights in the halls. Only just the bulbs in my cell that my tormentors would flick on every time they came in for my daily beat down.
Not anymore, fuckers.
“Katarina,” I whisper harshly, my voice urgent. “As soon as you can, run. Hide in another cell. Get past me, down the corridor and hide as far away as you fucking can. Do you understand me?”
