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My captor lowered his hand and very slowly reached for the gun in the front of his half-opened pants; it was still in its holster.
“I don’t recognize your voice.”
“New recruit.” The guy rocked back on his heels like he was outside talking to some random stranger, not a witness to a bloodbath. “I was told you’d want to have a word with me before giving me any sort of assignment.”
“I didn’t order a new recruit.” My captor slowly started moving his fingers closer to his gun.
The shadowed figure scratched the back of his head. “Maybe it slipped through.”
My captor pulled the gun slowly and hid it in front of his body. “I’m not one to let things slip.”
“Well shit, this is awkward.” The guy held up his gun and pointed it at my captor.
I revealed nothing.
I didn’t even smile.
I just waited for the blood splatter.
My captor turned to shoot but was hit with a single bullet between the eyes; he went down against me, blood and brain matter were everywhere.
On the ground, on me, on my cheeks.
I started to scream, but nothing came out but a squeak. I was so horrified that my voice stopped working altogether. All I could feel was warm blood and things I never wanted to feel again… the numbness was gone. I needed it back if I was going to survive the man who’d just shot my monster.
“Shhh.” The man trained his gun on me. “You’ll draw attention, and we need to get you out of here.”
I choked back a sob and managed to stop making whatever noise that was and took a shaky half-step, half-limp toward him. I was so weak from blood loss I could barely stand. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“You can’t.” He stepped out of the shadows.
I gasped. His hair was a honey-brown with shots of gold, his eyes a bright green, so bright it didn’t look real. He was at least six foot three and was wearing black cargo pants and a black long-sleeve shirt that was so tight it looked like a second skin.
“You done?” His eyes narrowed.
I said nothing. I kept staring, though. What was I even looking at? My hero? Another captor? Though it was better than staying in that room.
My brother! He needed to be buried. He was lying there lifeless… all the men did was check to make sure he was dead, and he deserved more than laying on a concrete floor filled with our blood.
I turned around.
“No.” He grabbed my arm. “What’s in there is dead and isn’t coming back, walk out of this room with me so you can be free.”
Free? What even was that?
“Fucking pay-for-hire Italians.” He grabbed another gun then reached for me. “I hope you can swim.”
“Swim?” I finally found my voice. “Why are we swimming?”
“Because there’s water.” He said it slowly, probably for my benefit, making me want to smack him with something heavy, not that I could lift anything, not even my own arm. “I cleared out the hall, but they’re already calling in reinforcements as we speak, don’t make a sound and do exactly as I say when I say it otherwise, it’s your head, literally.”
“What about your head?”
“Woman, I would sacrifice you in a minute if it meant my survival. Don’t mistake this for anything other than me owing someone a favor and you being my only way out.”
“Out of what?”
He looked away. “Hell.”
