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Echo
“Bet you thought this was fucking clever, huh?” Neil says as he paces in front of me. “New face and tits to distract, get close to us. I guess I don’t need to ask what really happened to Sergio?”
My jaw is clenched and my self-preservation instinct goes out the window. Somehow, it's almost a relief that they know who I am.
“He died like a bitch at my feet like he fucking deserved,” I spit back.
Neil’s grin grows and darkens. Tanner and Peter both step up behind him, and the fear I should be feeling is somehow numbed in the face of the men who have haunted my nightmares for years.
They all take a step toward me.
Something sounds above us. Loud.Booming.
It takes me a moment to realize what it is, and when I do, I start laughing. No, cackling is probably a better description. The three of them stand there with confused expressions until Neil strikes a hand out to hit me. I only laugh harder, even getting a hiccup in there.
“You guys—hiccup—are so fucked.” I giggle.
Neil lets off a growl and yanks my hair, pulling me from the chair. I let out a screech as some is ripped from the roots. My bound hands fly up to leverage the pain, but he tosses me to the ground. My elbow and head slam against the ground for a moment before he pulls my hair up again, bringing my face up to his.
“What the fuck is this?” he growls in my face, nodding to the ceiling. I can feel blood filling my mouth, and I grin, letting it drip down my chin.
“It’s your fucking reckoning,” I goad. “What did you think I was really doing here the other night?”
My laughter becomes hysterical and his eyes narrow as he throws me back down, raising a fist.
“Dude, I think something fucking exploded up there,” Peter says, looking even more nervous than usual.
“We don’t have time for this shit,” Tanner spits. I watch the litany of emotions crossing Neil’s face, settling on some kind of acceptance. He leans down to me.
“You better hope I don’t come back here for you, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Because if I get a chance to get my hands on you again…”
He brings a fist to his mouth and bites down before imparting one last, “Cunt,” and walking out of the room with Tanner close behind. Peter looks down at me briefly before following.
I spit the blood out of my mouth and look up to the ceiling. I imagine I can hear the crackling of the fire above, though the concrete basement gives no sign of it.
How did it go off, anyway? Killian?
Doesn’t matter.
I wonder if the fire will get down here. Maybe we’ll suffocate first. Also doesn’t matter. Not now.
We did it, I think with a smile.We pulled it off.
I close my eyes and think of celebrating with Kill, spending days wrapped up in him and his arms. A smile plays on my lips.
I feel remote, absent, as I listen to a shout in the distance. The basement that wasn’t in the building plans doesn’t have very good fire safety. I giggle again at that thought.
We’ll all die down here.
The ground feels cold and refreshing against my aching skin, the many bruises and scrapes now covering my body. My eyes follow the pattern of the cement, the small imperfections and dents. I don’t realize I’m moving until I’m flat on the ground. The cool stone on my skin is heavenly. I close my eyes, letting the good feeling wash away the pain.
The calm that washes over me is amazing, something I haven’t really felt in years.
Except for in Killian’s arms,that voice says,that was peace you’ve never known.
“He’s much better off without your crazy ass,” I mutter to myself, proving my own point further.
Going a bit crazy is strangely comfortable, especially right before you know you’re going to burn to death.
