Chapter 32 #2
Alfred staggers backward and blood trickles from his mouth.
He spits onto the floor, something I’d never think the prim and proper Sir would stand for, before lunging at Leon again.
But this time he’s off-balance and desperate.
Leon sidesteps him easily, grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around before punching him in the temple.
Alfred stumbles, completely dazed, but somehow still holding onto consciousness as he drops to one knee.
I step closer to get a better look and see his eyes roll back in his head for a moment, nothing showing but bloodshot globes of dull white.
Breathing fast, Leon grabs him by the collar and shoves him hard against the wall, while Ada stifles her cries beside me.
Alfred’s head lolls to the side. He seems to be semi-conscious and mumbling incoherently.
“Is he knocked out?” I ask as my heart pounds out of my chest.
Leon studies him, keeping one hand pressed firmly against his chest to pin him to the wall. “Not fully. He’s drifting in and out. Bailey, I need your help in here. Quickly. I have to search his pockets before he comes to, but I can’t hold him and search at the same time.”
Shit.
The last thing I want is to get anywhere near that twisted psycho, even unconscious. But Leon needs me.
“No,” Ada says, reaching out to hold me back. “Don’t go in there.”
“Are you sure he’s knocked out?” I ask Leon, letting my fear take over.
“Bailey, please. I need your help.”
Internally screaming but holding it together, I pull Ada’s hand away and nod.
Once I’m inside the cell, the walls instantly start closing in around me.
It’s one thing to peer through the window, but another to step inside the small space.
The coppery smell of blood mixed with the musty basement air makes it even harder to breathe.
“Let’s get this done,” I say solemnly.
Alfred’s head hangs forward as I approach, his breathing shallow but steady. A thin line of drool mixed with blood drips from the corner of his mouth and I try not to gag.
“Check his jacket pockets first, then his trousers,” Leon says, using both hands now to keep Alfred upright against the wall. “Look for his keycard, his phone, anything that could help him get out of here.”
I reach toward his jacket pocket with shaking hands, trying not to touch him directly. That smell—it’s so much stronger right next to him.
“Hurry, Bailey. I can feel him starting to come around.”
My fingers find the outline of something rectangular in his inner pocket. The keycard. I slip it out carefully, then move to his other jacket pocket, which is empty.
“I need to get to his pants,” I say, urging Leon to adjust his position.
“Leon!” Ada’s panicked voice echoes from the hallway. She stops at the entrance to the cell. “Someone’s upstairs. I heard footsteps!”
Leon’s head snaps in her direction. “Fuck!” He takes a moment to decide what to do, but Ada calls his name again so he releases Alfred, letting him slump to the side.
“Stay with Bailey,” he tells his mother.
There’s so much conflict in his eyes as he glances between me and the hallway. “I’ll be right back, love. One second.”
I’m trembling, wanting to get as far away from Alfred as possible. Who else is out there? Could it be Jasper and the rest? Or someone worse than Alfred?
I watch Leon pull out his gun keeping it aimed toward the ground as he steps away.
He’s just outside the cell door—close enough to rush back in, but far enough that he can’t reach me.
That’s when Alfred’s eyes suddenly snap open.
His hand shoots up fast as lightning, and he wraps his fingers around my throat before I can even scream. The keycard falls from my hands to the concrete floor as Alfred yanks me down toward him, his grip crushing my windpipe.
“You little bitch,” he snarls, spitting bloody saliva onto my face.
I claw at his hand, trying with all my strength to pry his fingers loose, but his grip is impossibly strong for someone who was just half unconscious. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision as I struggle to breathe.
“Leon,” I wheeze, but the word barely escapes my lips.
Suddenly Ada’s there behind Alfred, scrambling against his back, pounding her small fists along his shoulders. “Let her go!” she screams. “Let her go!”
Alfred releases one hand from my throat to backhand Ada viciously across the face. She cries out and falls backward, hitting the concrete wall hard before sagging to the floor. But she gave me just enough air to keep fighting.
Leon shouts something. I can’t make out the words over the roaring in my ears, and then Alfred’s being jerked sideways as Leon tries to pull him off me. But Alfred won’t let go. Instead, he uses his grip on my throat to push himself to his feet, holding my body in front of him as a shield.
Oh God. I need air. I’m scratching and pulling at his hands but it’s doing nothing but leaving angry red marks on his skin.
“Get off her!” Leon roars, aiming his gun at Alfred’s head.
Alfred backhands me across the face, and stars explode in my field of vision. No. I won’t go down like this. I bite his wrist hard until I taste blood, and he finally releases my throat with a howl of pain.
I stumble backward, gasping, giving Leon the space to take him down. He doesn’t waste another second, as the barrel of his gun connects with the side of Alfred’s head. The crack of his skull is so loud that it echoes in the small space like a gunshot.
Alfred crumples to the floor finally, truly unconscious. Thank God.
“Bailey!” Leon’s hands cup my shoulders as he takes in my appearance with wide, worried eyes. “Are you okay?”
I can’t speak yet, so I just nod while I rub my throat. It feels like I’ve swallowed razor blades. Leon pulls me against his chest, whispering words of praise. His heartbeat pounds against my ears, giving me strength.
“I’m okay,” I finally manage to croak, gesturing toward Ada who’s in shock across the room. “Your mom.”
“Shit!” Leon releases me to rush to Ada’s side. She’s sitting against the wall, holding her cheek where Alfred hit her. Blood trickles from her nose.
“I’m alright,” she says weakly, as Leon helps her to her feet. “Is he dead?”
Leon’s face is pure rage unlike I’ve ever seen before. “No… not yet.”
“Son,” Ada cries. “Why is this happening? I don’t understand.”
He leads her to the door. “I’m so sorry. Both of you. I should never have—”
“The keycard,” I interrupt, my voice barely audible. I point to where it fell.
He makes sure Ada can stand on her own before grabbing the card from the floor. Alfred still doesn’t stir.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, reaching for my hand. The moment we’re outside the cell Leon immediately pushes the door shut and swipes the keycard over the lock until it beeps.
“Son, are you alright?” Ada asks, wrapping Leon in her arms. They hug but only briefly. Leon’s too preoccupied staring at a control panel beside the door. I wrap my arm around Ada’s shoulder, and hold her close while Leon starts pressing buttons in a specific sequence, cursing under his breath.
“Can he get out?” I ask, watching him work.
“Not without help,” Leon says, concentrating on whatever he’s typing. “This lock is designed to stay shut even if the power goes out. It’s made for holding prisoners. The door stays locked by default, not like a normal door.”
He keeps working on the control panel for what feels like forever. I don’t want to bother him with more questions, but I certainly do not want to wait upstairs either. So for now, Ada and I quietly watch him work, my anxiety on high alert knowing Alfred will wake up at any moment.
When Leon finally speaks, I’m not sure if he’s talking to himself or us. “Alfred’s keycard is like a master key that could open any of these cells. I’m trying to erase his card from the system and change his passwords, but I’ve never worked with something like this.”
“What about emergency exits?” Ada asks quietly. “Don’t these doors have some kind of safety release? What if there were a fire?”
Leon glances through the window at a small metal box mounted on the wall inside the cell.
“They’re supposed to have a manual override, like a fire alarm that automatically opens the door if there’s smoke or something.
But I think Alfred disconnected it. I doubt he cared if his prisoners got out.
In fact, he probably hoped they didn’t.”
Ada makes a small sound and stumbles forward a bit. “I think this is too much for her,” I say, holding Ada close. “We should get her upstairs for some water. He’s not going anywhere.”
Leon finally looks away from his work and nods. “You’re right. I’ve got her.” He hands me his phone and moves to support Ada. “Can you call Falin? They should be here by now and I could really use her help.”
I take the phone with shaky hands and head for the stairs, Leon helping Ada right behind me. As soon as we reach the main floor, I take a deep cleansing breath and dial Falin.
“Leon! Where are you?” Falin’s voice comes through the speaker.
“It’s Bailey. We’re at the estate. We found his mom, but we need your help with something. Are you almost here?”
“We’re getting to the gates now. It took forever—Oh fuck.”
All at once the others start talking in the background before the line goes dead.
What the hell?
I turn to follow Leon and Ada in their search for the kitchen when they freeze, hearing what must have made Falin hang up abruptly—three rapid gunshots in the distance, followed by dead silence.