“Here,” she panted, daring him. “Hit where it counts.”
He obliged.
Keys scraped; he popped the pin and shouldered her door. Chain-link screamed. He went in half a step, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and bounced her head off the cinderblock like he’d practiced it. Once, hard. Twice, harder. A wet, wrong sound followed the second hit. She slid down the bars, cheek smearing along the diamond, and hit the floor in a boneless sit that turned into a spill.
He looked down at what he’d done and smiled small.
“Anyone else?” he asked, voice gone lazy again.
Before he could turn back to Ariel, a radio coughed on his belt.
“Bring your ass up,” a voice snapped through static. “Boss wants the floor clear.”
He hesitated, still looking at Ariel’s cage. His fingers twitched around the light.
“Now,” the voice barked. “Inventory’s here early.”
He spat, disgusted, and stepped back. “Lucky,” he told no one in particular.
The cage door swung shut on its own weight. The light cut. Boots pounded up the stairs.
Silence followed like a tide. I could hear the drip where her blood found the seam in the concrete and kept going. Ariel’s breathing hitched, then tried to smooth. Sunshine choked a sound down to nothing. I didn’t move. I watched the dark where the woman had been and started a count, waiting for breath to come back.
It didn’t.
“Cap, she was trying to,” Ariel’s voice frayed.
“I know.”
The air in the room turned heavy. The wire pressed cool into my palms. Every cell in me wanted out, wanted to rip. But wanting doesn’t open doors, plans do.
I set my forehead to the mesh until it bit skin. “Not her,” I said to the dark that kept taking. “Not again.”
The screw cooled against my wrist bone, small, sharp promise. We had a weakness in the weld and a hand that could make use of it.
We were getting out.
