Chapter 21
· Aubrey ·
Then I see it—a set of metal stairs bolted against the far wall, winding up toward what I can only hope is freedom.
Without hesitation, I bolt toward them, my legs burning with renewed effort.
I take the steps two at a time, the metal clanging underfoot, each sound feeling like it will give me away.
Behind me, I hear Rhett’s labored breathing, closer now, the rage in his voice echoing off the concrete walls.
“You can’t escape, Aubrey!” he shouts, his voice booming, reverberating through the empty space. “You’re mine, do you hear me? Mine!”
The idea of being his, of being trapped and used, is more terrifying than anything.
I reach the top of the stairs and burst through the door, slamming it shut behind me.
My eyes scan the hallway—a dusty, dimly lit corridor stretches out before me, lined with more doors, each one promising yet more twists in this nightmare maze.
I spot a chair leaning against the wall and jam it under the handle of the door, hoping it will buy me precious seconds though I doubt it.
That chair looks on the verge of crumbling any second but it’s all I have right now.
For a split second, I pause, heart pounding, trying to get my bearings. Where the hell am I? It feels like I’ve been running in circles, deeper into the building instead of out of it. The air is thick, stale, pressing down on me, and every shadow seems to pulse with hidden threats.
A furious roar erupts from the stairwell, shaking me from my thoughts.
Rhett’s frustration reverberates through the metal door, followed by a loud, brutal bang as he slams his fists against it.
“Aubrey!” he bellows, the door rattling under his assault.
He’s fumbling with the handle, then a crash sounds as the chair I wedged there topples to the ground.
Shit.
Bianca’s voice joins the cacophony, her tone dripping with venom. “You idiot! How could you let her escape?”
“Me? She ran straight fucking past you!” Rhett snarls, punctuating his words with another bang on the door, each one sending tremors through the frame. The sound is close, too close. I don’t have long.
I dart down the corridor, which opens into another vast, open space—a sprawling storage area filled with rows of rusted metal shelves, stacked with dusty boxes, forgotten junk, and old equipment.
The lights here flicker weakly, casting a dim, sickly yellow glow that barely reaches the far corners of the room.
Shadows pool in the alcoves between the shelves, creating dark nooks and crannies that seem to press in on me.
To my left, stacks of broken furniture create shadowy alcoves, piles of old armchairs and splintered tables arranged haphazardly, as if abandoned in a hurry.
The air is thick with the smell of mold and rot, tinged with the faint metallic scent of rust. I force myself to stay calm, to think clearly despite the terror clawing at my mind.
If I can just stay hidden, if I can stay quiet long enough, maybe they’ll give up. Maybe I’ll have a chance to slip away.
Footsteps echo down the corridor, growing louder, closer, each one sending a jolt of fear through me.
I duck behind a moldy armchair, pressing myself into the shadows, my back against the damp concrete wall.
My chest heaves, but I clamp a hand over my mouth, desperate to quiet my breathing, to still the ragged gasps that feel too loud in the suffocating silence.
“When I find you, Aubrey,” Rhett’s voice booms through the room, closer now, thick with anger and a dark, possessive edge, “you’ll wish you’d never tried to run.”
I press myself harder against the wall, willing myself to become invisible, to blend into the shadows. My heart beats loud in my ears, and my skin prickles with cold sweat. Their footsteps, steady and slow, methodical, as if they’re savoring the hunt, knowing there’s nowhere for me to go.
“She’s here somewhere,” Bianca hisses, her voice low but sharp, filled with venom. “Find her, Rhett. We can’t let her ruin everything we’ve worked for.”
Everything they’ve worked for? The thought sends a chill down my spine. Whatever Rhett and Bianca are planning, it’s bigger than just me. The realization only strengthens my resolve. I won’t let them win.
Rhett’s footsteps grow louder, echoing off the walls as he moves deeper into the storage room.
He shifts boxes, the scrape of metal against concrete as he checks behind each row, methodically closing in on my hiding spot.
Every sound makes me flinch, every step drawing him closer, and I have to fight the urge to run, to flee without a plan.
His shadow stretches across the floor, long and dark, creeping toward the armchair where I’m hiding. I hold my breath, clenching my fists, every muscle taut with terror as his footsteps slow. He’s right there, barely inches away, and I can hear his heavy breathing.
He pauses, and I brace myself, heart pounding so hard I’m sure he’ll hear it. Desperate, I search for anything I can use to defend myself. My claws have barely grown back, weakened by the wolfsbane still lingering in my system, but if it comes to it, I’ll fight with everything I have.
They move through the room. I can’t stay here; they’ll spot me, so keeping low, I move through the room using the furniture and pallets to hide behind as I try to find a door or something.
Just as I duck behind some old crates, I hear Rhett’s voice ringing through the basement. “She’s close! Don’t let her escape!”
His statement sends a jolt of terror through me. I press my back against the rough wood, splinters digging into my skin through my thin shirt. The musty scent of decay fills my nostrils as I struggle to control my ragged breathing.
Footsteps echo off the concrete floor, growing closer. My heart hammers a thunderous roar in my ears.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Bianca’s singsong voice drifts through the air.. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”
The sound of boxes being overturned makes me flinch. They’re getting nearer with each passing second.
“Check the exits! She has to be around here somewhere!” Bianca shouts, her tone sharp and commanding. The urgency in her voice sends a fresh wave of panic through me.
Sweat trickles down my spine as I force myself to open my eyes, scanning the dimly lit basement. My gaze darts from corner to corner, desperate for a way out of this place.
A flicker of movement catches my eye – a torn piece of paper fluttering in a faint breeze. My heart leaps. Where there’s air, there’s a way out.
“I swear, when I get my hands on her…” Rhett’s threat trails off, punctuated by the crash of something heavy hitting the floor, the sound reverberating through the room like a warning.
I flinch but keep my focus on the small scrap of paper fluttering near the floor, marking the direction of a faint breeze. Slowly, carefully, I edge toward it, every muscle taut with tension, every breath measured. I need to stay calm, to stay silent.
As I near the source of the breeze, I spot it—a small, grimy window set high in the wall. It’s barely big enough for a person, but right now, it’s my only shot at freedom. My pulse quickens as I stare up at that tiny window, hope surging with the realization. I might just get out of here.
I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms as I inch closer.
Gripping the edge of the windowsill, I haul myself up and peer out.
The faint, salty scent of the ocean hits me, and beyond the grime-streaked glass, I catch sight of hulking shadows—ships, masts swaying gently in the harbor lights.
I’m at the docks. I must be in one of the warehouses.
Dropping back down, I reach for the nearest crate, dragging it beneath the window. The rough scraping sound seems deafening in the tense silence, and I freeze as I listen for any reaction.
“Did you hear that?” Rhett’s voice booms, dangerously close.
I scramble onto the crate, fingers scrabbling at the rusted window latch. It’s stuck, refusing to budge, the metal crusted over with age and neglect.
Come on, come on, I plead internally, panic rising like a tidal wave in my throat.
“She’s over here!” Bianca’s triumphant shout pierces the silence, and dread washes over me.
With a final wrench, the latch gives way, screeching as it grudgingly opens. I push the window outward, cool night air rushing in to caress my face, carrying with it the scent of salt and freedom. I grip the window frame and haul myself up, one leg out, body twisting as I try to wriggle through.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Rhett snarls.
A vice-like grip clamps down around my ankle, yanking me back so hard I nearly slip from the frame. His hands are like iron, digging into my skin, dragging me away from the brink of escape. Desperation claws at me, and I thrash, kicking out blindly with my free leg.
“Let go of me!” I scream, my voice ragged with fear and fury.
My foot connects with something solid—his chest or his jaw, I don’t know—and Rhett grunts in pain, his grip loosening but not letting go.
Then I feel another set of nails rake against my skin, sharp and vicious, digging into my ankle.
Bianca. She claws at me with frantic, wild movements, her nails tearing into flesh, a sharp, searing pain that makes me gasp.
With a brutal tug, they pull me back through the window.
I scream, the sound raw and desperate, filling the warehouse with a piercing wail of terror.
I don’t know if anyone can hear me, but it’s all I have left as they wrestle me to the ground.
I hit the floor hard, the impact jarring my bones, and for a split second, stars dance before my eyes.
Rhett looms over me, his face twisted with rage, eyes wild as he reaches for me.