I grit through my teeth, “No, we’ll talk about—”
He tightens the pressure, fighting as my eyes narrow into slits as the rage seeps, teetering me to do something really, really fucking stupid. “Do as I fucking say, Indie. We’ll talk about it back at the Pit.”
He gives me one last warning squeeze, then the noose around my neck loosens, his eyes and voice softening. “I promise.”
His hand drops from my neck, and I force down a swallow from the emotion kept clogged there.
The curtain whips open. Saint’s hand slaps against my waist as he forces me behind him, other hand reaching behind for the gun.
“Boss, we need to leave. We’ll take you to her, and then you two need to get the fuck out of here.”
Saint’s shoulders visibly relax, and I tuck the knife back into its sheath on my thigh. It’s Ross.
We follow him as he leads us down towards the stage, the lights now beaming above us as the crowds of people filter out from the doorway we entered through, the buyers gathered at the right side of the stage as they converse with staff on theirpurchases.
Saint reaches for my hand as I wobble with my weak knees, and I stare at it like it offended me.
I don’t know what I’ll do if he’s kept this from me, if he’s known all this time Louisa was a part of the Omnia. The thought has bile rising in my stomach.
This has to be a mistake; she’s a fucking Senator. She vouches for women’s rights. How can she so easily spill lies in front of millions of people, when behind closed doors she’s one of the biggest threats to their lives?
The pain coursing through my chest is unbearable; I feel like someone stabbed a knife right through the centre, continuously twisting it, offering me no sense of easing up.
Saint takes my hand in my hesitation, dragging me from my thoughts and along the opposite side of the stage, away from the snakes as they hand over their purchase confirmation.
Ross stops as a group of people chat away near a door to the left, eyes directed to the back of the room. He nods, and the place plunges in darkness.
Audible gasps and laughter erupt around us, and I’m yanked and blindly led forward. My pulse rushes in my ears, and a door opening creaks as we’re led through it. A faint buzz sounds around us, along with muffled whoops through the room we just walked through when the lights turn back on.
“Where is she?” Saint asks Ross, dim lights brightening up the corridor. The smell of damp and neglect fills the air, the evidence of wherever the fuck we are being relatively unused.
“She’s being prepared. We’ve managed to replace two of their couriers to hand her over to you, but they’ll figure it out soon. I’ll get you to the car; she’ll be out for a good few hours.” He glances over at me, tilting his head. “Get the fuck out of here though. You’ve already been spotted in the area. This passage leads us out on the opposite side of the loading bay. I’ve already got word to bring the car around.”
Saint nods, clapping his hand on Ross’s shoulder. “You need to leave. All of you do.”
“We will. Once you’re both out.”
I can tell Ross is ex-military, not just by the way he speaks, but the suit jacket he wears stretches across his broad shoulders, and he looks nothing like the other members of staff working here.
That observation fills me with dread, that if Saint’s been spotted, and anyone notices us not following what I assume is normal practice, we might already have a tail behind us.
Ross twists forward, walking down the corridor as we follow him. Saint’s forceful grip never eases up on my hand. All that can be heard as we sneak through what I can only assume is a hidden hallway, is the clacks of my heels, and static from the lingering treachery still violently spreading through me.
It takes a couple of minutes before we reach a door. Discarded boards and rusted nails are scattered along the concrete floor. Ross holds his hand up, gesturing we stay put as Saint brings us both to an abrupt stop.
My gaze follows him as he works the door, the hinges screeching as he opens it, making me wince as he peers into the night. The vibrations in my body worsen, the cold air nipping at my skin as it whips off the bare walls, erupting goosebumps along my exposed limbs.
Ross eyes us nervously, and Saint reaches back to grab the gun as he cocks it. “You’re good.”
Saint tugs my hand as we reach the door, Ross checking the right as we head to the left. The car that brought us here reverses along the side of the manor, pulling to a stop as Saint leans in to speak to the driver, still not letting up on his grip around our joined hands.
Ross walks along the driver’s side. “You know how to get out?”
I miss whatever the response was, as pounding footsteps rise around us.
One minute I’m upright, the next Saint’s swung open the back door, throwing me inside as two men approach us. “What the fuck are you doing?” I screech, but he closes the door on me as my palms press against the chilled glass.
I can’t hear what’s being said, there’s so many voices speaking at the same time; the driver’s barking at someone on the phone, mentioning Rex’s name. The trunk door swings upwards, and two members of Ultio dressed like the servers lay something long covered in a blanket inside.
