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"Please." He lets out a long-frustrated sigh, turning in his seat to look at me with his big blue eyes. "Just do it. I am trying to help you here."
I nod, accepting his words and put the hoodie on without further questioning. I really should act more grateful. This man is putting his own life on the line to save my ass, and he doesn't even know me.
"When you get out of the vehicle, follow me and keep your head down until I say otherwise."
I do as he says and follow him with my eyes solid on the concrete. We come to an elevator that takes us down three floors. The thought terrifies me at how far underground we must be. Once the door opens, it brings us out into a long dark corridor.
"You can look up now," he murmurs, stepping out of the elevator.
I follow reluctantly as Elijah leads me through the passageway. The stone walls are dimly lit with ancient-looking sconces guiding us to the iron door at the end. It reminds me of a castle dungeon from a historical movie where they lock away the prisoners. I'd expect it to be cold and damp, but instead, there is a welcoming warmth in the air.
It is strange to see a modern security keypad installed in the old stone wall next to the door. It looks out of place, out of its time period, considering the backdrop. Elijah keys in a pin code, and the door clicks, opening automatically.
Once inside, Elijah flicks on the light switch, and I immediately feel as though I have been transported from one era into another. Purple LED strip lights dress the roof like a honeycomb. A well-stocked bar stands to the side. Tables and stools, stripper poles, and podiums scatter about the room.
We pass through an archway that looks like intertwined vines made of rusty iron. It's fucking creepy.
Flicking another switch at the end of the archway, a new room comes to life. Viewing platforms circle the outskirts of the room and, in the center, a caged off area.
"Um, Elijah?" My feet dig firmly into the floor, coming to a halt.
He pauses, turning around, giving me an impatient glare. "What?"
My eyes dart over the cage. "What the hell is this place?" I ask as Elijah leads me through the room.
"Exactly what it looks like, an underground club," he answers, continuing on.
"What's the cage for?"
"Fighting," he answers me like we are discussing the weather. Disturbing images fill my head with blood and gore of brutal fights.
My lips curl in distaste and disbelief that such a place exists. "Is this place yours?"
Elijah shrugs with a wicked smile. "Maybe."
I look around the room with bewilderment, imagining what this place would look like full of wealthy seedy men gambling their riches on brutal unsanctioned fighting—my stomach revolts at just the thought alone.
"As much as I would love to give you the grand tour, time is ticking. We need to move." Elijah points towards a door. "This way. Let's go."
We head down another long hallway, this time littered with closed doors. Which after the last room I was in, I have no desire to find out what's behind them. At the end of the hall, Elijah unlocks one of the doors. I hold my breath in anticipation of what I might find, but as we enter, I am pleasantly surprised. A small, simple room with a bed and table, bathroom to the side. Nothing unordinary in sight except for the small travel cage that sits on the table by a single bed.
Pumpkin's little face stares out of the bars. "Oh my God. Pumpkin!" I rush over to him, unlatch the door, and take him out. Hugging him tightly, my heart fills with relief and happiness to have him back. He purrs, stretching his neck out to me for a scratch. "I missed you too," I tell him.
"I will bring you some food in the morning. There are some fresh clothes for you in the bag." He points to a small pink suitcase on the bed. "As well as some hair dye and a few other essentials. Try and get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow."
I turn around to face him. "What's happening tomorrow?" I ask, my eyes pitching together with concern.
"You have a flight to catch. A new life awaits you."
He closes the door, and I hear the distinct click as he locks it. My new cage has no window like my last.
Forty
Luca
I move quickly, pulling the decoy body into place. Elijah gave Joe some instructions on the phone that will have him making a few phone calls before returning back inside, but I have to move fast.
Elijah has excelled himself. As I look at the woman's body he took from the city morgue that died from a gunshot trauma to the head. You would never know it's not Scarlet. I don't know if he dyed the woman's hair or if she was naturally a redhead, but the color is spot on. I have dressed her in Scarlet's sweater and positioned her in the way she would have fallen, had it been real, and added splattered pig blood around the floor where she lay and in her hair.
