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And before I knew it, it was over. He backed away slowly, stepping into a pool of light as he went. His chest heaved beneath his plain white T-shirt, a tremor snaking its way down his lean frame as he gave me one last lingering look before he melted into the darkness.
CHAPTER 7
STELLA
Drip, drip, drip. The scuffling of feet from somewhere far away echoed back to me. Drip, drip, drip. A whimper came from somewhere close by. Drip, drip, drip. Hazy memories played like a highlight reel behind my eyelids as I listened. Drip, drip, drip. My fingers twitched, the pads lightly tracing over a cool, hard surface. A sniffle came from the same direction as the whimper. Drip, drip, drip.
Jesus. Where in the hell was I? My eyelashes stuck together when I tried to open my eyes, and my mouth felt dryand gross. Funny, I didn’t remember having anything to drink at the club.
The club. Shit. Everything came rushing back in stark clarity and I instantly shot upright.
Bad move. My head swam, and I tried to blink away the overlapping metal bars that danced in front of me. Fuck. My stomach lurched, and I quickly squeezed my eyes shut.
Whatever that asshole had shot me with packed a hell of a punch. After taking several deep breaths in, then back out again, the nausea finally subsided, and I was able to open my eyes.
Dim light filtered through the single set of bars on my cell. Let me amend that, jail cell, since this was some shit straight out ofLocked Up. Only way worse.
A shiver slid down my spine as I stared at the mattress lying atop the concrete floor. There wasn’t enough light for me to be sure, but I suspected the dark stains were dried blood. Gross.
Nope. Not going to go there. Thinking about it wouldn’t help me escape from this shithole. I shook my head and forced myself not to dwell on the mattress from hell.
On the opposite wall was a cracked sink, a stained toilet with no toilet paper, and Jules folded up in the corner next to it.
Holy shit. Had they really been dumb enough to put us in a cell together, or was this some kind of sick joke?
His head was bent at an awkward angle with his chin almost touching his shoulder. He was curled into a tight little ball, his long arms draped over his knees. With the dim lighting, it was difficult for me to tell if he was just asleep or dead. Fuck me, I hoped he wasn’t dead.
“Psst, Jules. Are you okay over there?”
When he didn’t move, I blew out a breath and scooted closer. The tiny dress I wore hampered my movements, but I was too relieved that I still had it on to care.
“Jules,” I whispered.
Nothing. Fantastic. There was no way around it, I was going to have to feel for a pulse. If he was gone, well shit, I’d just cross that bridge when I came to it.
Loose pebbles from the cement floor dug into my knees as I carefully leaned over his body and placed two fingers against the side of his neck. When I encountered warm, firm skin, I let out the breath I’d been holding. Not dead. At least not yet.
“Don’t move your hand and lean in,” he whispered. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, but I did as he asked. “We haven’t got much time. When the men come in here, shrink into the opposite corner and tell them I’m dead. While they’re distracted, run as fast as you can down the hall and take a right at the fork. It’s a straight shot to the outer door from there.”
“What about you?” I asked, careful not to move my hand away from his neck.
A memory of Jules’s squeaky voice warning me about cameras surfaced, and I tried to hide my shiver. The thought of someone watching me while I was passed out freaked me the fuck out. My brain refused to think about anything worse happening to me while I was in that state.
“I’m sorry.” There it was again. The same thing he’d said at the club when those assholes took us. “You were the only one who could lead me to them. My last shot at finding my sister. Remember what I told you. One turn and you’re free.”
Footsteps echoed as they drew closer, and I scurried to the opposite side of the cell, curling myself into a ball. It wasn’t hard to fake tears. Lava pooled in my gut and for once in my life I didn’t have to hide them. Being tough was adisadvantage here. I needed these men to think of me as being weak and helpless.
Keys rattled in the lock, and when the door swung open, I looked up at them through my lashes. There was something oddly familiar about the jawline of the man who stood over me, but I couldn’t place where I’d seen him before. Not that it mattered. He and I were about to part company.
“He’s”—I sucked in a shaky breath for this douche’s benefit—“dead.”
The man turned, a swath of light landing on his blue-black hair. Something gnawed at me, but I remained still, waiting for him to move away. His back was well defined, the muscles bunching under his black fitted T-shirt as he moved.
He reminded me of Hunter, not a large man in stature, but still deadly and powerful. I had to time this just right if I stood a chance of escaping.
He left our cell door open as he walked over to where Jules sat, still curled up in his unmoving ball. When he went down on his haunches and extended his hand toward Jules’s neck to check for a pulse, I sprang into action. His shoulders tensed at the sound of movement behind him, but he didn’t stop me as I ran out the door.
Maybe he thought I wouldn’t be able to find my way out of this hellhole or that I’d give up when I came across more guards. Wrong on both counts, asshole. I had no intention of sticking around to see what sort of horrors they had in store for me.
