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He gave a nod. “Good. That’s good. I promise, when this is all over, I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Everything, baby. But right now.” He glanced at the doorway. “Right now, we need to move.”
“Fine,” I answered.
I was starting to understand Carven now. All the looks that I’d taken to be cold anger were instead…fear. He showed me that now as he moved away, lifted his gun, and stepped through the doorway.
Trust me…
Those words resounded as I lifted my own gun and followed him. That tight knot in the middle of my chest throbbed. I sank into the ache as we made our way back to the rooms once more. It wasn’t Colt in that room.
It wasn’t Colt…
Then who the hell was it?
Carven swept the barrel of his rifle along the hallway, checking the first lot of cells we’d left only minutes before, and then moved further along the hall. But every room was the same. Empty. Abandoned.
The heavy thud of his boots echoed along the hall as I stepped into the room that’d once been mine. My cell. My hell. At first, my feet refused to move, until I forced them to move from the doorway and head for the bed.
Nights.
Weeks.
Months…
Years.
That’s how long this place had been my prison. I suppressed a shiver as I glanced from the messy sheets that’d been ripped from the bed in a hurry to the open top drawers in the dresser. It was those open draws which drew me deeper into my one private torture.
Step by step. I stared into the darkened edges of that void until I stood over it, staring at the messed up white lace panties that’d once been there. They’d left in a hurry. That was easy to see. I looked over my shoulder, mapping out the frantic movements.
She’d been dragged from the bed, no doubt by the guards as they stormed the room. Did they scream at her to grab her clothes? Or did they wrench open the drawers, or did…no, she did. In her last frantic moment, she’d grabbed the only thing she had, even if it was a symbol of power over her existence…she’d tried to, at least. I looked down, seeing all of her things there. White filled the space.
“It’s all clear,” Carven’s voice in the doorway made me flinch. In the murky light, he watched me standing there.
“Did they take anything? From their rooms, that is. Did they take their belongings?”
A look passed over his face. Sadness. Anger. He gave a gentle shake of his head.
No?
“We need to meet up with the others.”
He meant they wanted to go back to that dungeon under the ground. For a second I didn’t want to move. The entire room…no, the entire world shifted. Like I stood in the middle of some terrifying kaleidoscope, one twist of the wrist and my world would change. I fixed on Carven, knowing it wasn’t a twist of a wrist I needed to worry about.
Whatever was down those stairs terrified him.
Enough to haul me over his shoulder and drag me kicking and screaming out of there.
Part of me didn’t want to know.
The naive part.
That part who wanted to believe this was all just one sick, crazy dream. But here was the thing about dreams…they soon turn into nightmares. Fuck if I wasn’t going to be prepared for whatever came my way, nightmare or not. I stepped toward him. “Then let’s go.”
He stepped away, leading me back to that dungeon. By the time we pushed through the last set of double doors, I felt them standing outside that room, filling up the hallways with their energy and their strength. But there was only one of them standing there. “Anything?” Harper asked as we neared.
“No.” Carven glanced at the stairs. “The rooms are…empty.”
Empty.
