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Alistair:I’ll bring Cole up to speed and we’ll come get you—
Gabriel:No, this can’t wait. God knows what they’re doing to her. I’m going in, but I need you to promise that no matter what happens to me, you’ll get her to the Keep.
Alistair:Dude, don’t be an idiot. We can be there in—
Gabriel:It’s too late for that. I got my girl in trouble and I’m not about to sit around and wait while she goes through hell.
Alistair:Your girl? I thought Brooke was—
Gabriel:North of Salem street. You’ll see neon lights.
16
DEAD CELESTE
BROOKE
Blinding light assault my eyes. They’re familiar. I try to blink them away, but they only grow bolder in my mind.
“She’s rousing,” echoes the voice of Madam Frisk.
Was it all a dream? Did they finally drug me?
“She used to be so pretty,” Frank mumbles forlornly.
“The bruising will go down,” a familiar voice says. “It’s not like I could bring her in kicking and screaming. I did what had to be done.”
It feels like a hundred degrees with all the layers Gabe made me wear. My ankle feels funny. I lift it, and its weight confuses me. I look down at it, surprised to find I’m shackled to the dancing pole with about six feet of slack.
It wasn’t a dream and I’m not drugged.
Reality hits me like a freight train.
I’d found happiness….and it’s gone.
I was a fool.
“You see that girl up on the stage?” Frank says.
“Y-y-yes…”a voice whispers. It has a girly, feminine tone to it that makes me sad, because I once had such a voice.
“God, you should have seen her before. So damn pretty. It’s a shame that such a hot piece of ass has to go to waste,” Frank mutters. “But at least you’re here to fill the void.”
“Let me have her,” the familiar voice says, and I finally remember it. He’s the man from the street…Roy?
He took away everything.
“Not a chance. Not after the little stunt her boyfriend pulled. She’s to be made an example of, like her mother.”
“How about a little taste? For my efforts,” Roy begs.
“How about I don’t knock your block off?”
The men argue back and forth as I try to pull myself up into a sitting position. My muscles scream, making my body grow rigid.
“It really is a shame that we have to do this,” Madam Frisk says. “Just one night could—”
“We can’t afford to tip the bastard’s friends off and have them suspecting what we’ve done. Those CP nut jobs are armed to the teeth, and there’s no telling what they’ll fucking do if they find us with her. Best they think the two died from a rager.”
