Chapter 10
ARIA
This is literal insanity.
My hands shake as I stand alone in the utilities closet, waiting for Stone to return.
Is he an actual idiot, or does he just enjoy screwing with me?
The last time he left me alone in the roof cavity, I was attacked, and now he thinks it’s a good idea to leave me in a small private room that any of the rioting prisoners have access to? Fuck me.
I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again; Stone Blackthorne is a professional moron.
God, I hate him. I’d give anything to get away from him, but unfortunately for me, Stone is my only chance at survival. Assuming I can somehow evade him after we get out, but I’ve seen the man in action. He’s a machine, and escaping him is going to be next to impossible.
I’m well and truly fucked.
My stomach cramps with uneasiness as I do everything in my power to be quiet, hiding in the corner of the room, crouched down behind a box of extra large orange jumpsuits.
What the hell am I doing here? Accepting this interview was the worst decision of my life. Curiosity really is going to kill the cat.
I keep my head buried in my knees as though that could somehow help me hide, but my world quickly spirals into a sea of panic as the door handle rattles. My heart pounds in my ears as my head snaps back up, watching the door like my life depends on it.
It swings open, and I suck in a breath, my eyes wide like saucers, but as Stone steps back into the small utilities closet, relief pulses through my veins. “Holy fuck,” I murmur.
He glances down at me, his massive body taking up nearly every available space inside the room. “The fuck are you doing down there?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe hiding from the assholes on the other side of the door who want to rape and murder me,” I tell him. “What else was I supposed to do? You left me wide open for anyone to come along and fuck with me.”
He scoffs, watching me struggle to get back to my feet in the cramped space. “And you thought hiding behind a box was going to do what exactly? Your hair is bright fucking orange. They’d see you from a mile away.”
“It’s a deep auburn. Not orange. And . . . shut up. Are we getting out of here or what?”
As if having said the magic words, Stone nods and turns back to the door, his fingers hovering over the handle as if preparing himself to make a run for it. “Be ready,” he tells me.
My brows pinch, and I search his stare, unsure what he expects from me. “For what?”
As if on cue, a voice booms through C-block. “Stone is finished with the bitch in the guards’ quarters. He said first come, first serve, but after that, he’s putting a bullet in her head, and then ain’t nobody get to have her.”
My eyes widen in fear, sucking in a horrified breath as we listen to the havoc brewing outside the door. Men rush through the halls, pushing past the disabled gates to get through to the guards’ quarters.
They yell and shove. It’s fucking mayhem, and yet we just stand here, my heart racing like never before.
“Stone?”
“Wait,” he utters, the single word spoken with the kind of authority that can’t be questioned.
I find myself holding my breath as I listen to the menace consuming C-block, but there’s no denying how the noise shifts as the majority of the men go in search of me, and then just like that, a loud metal BANG sounds through the prison.
“GO!”
Stone yanks the door open in the same second that he grabs my hand and hauls ass out of the utilities closet. “What the fuck just happened?” I rush out, my feet pounding against the linoleum as I struggle to keep up with Stone’s massive strides.
He doesn’t respond, just races through the prison like his life depends on it, and maybe it does.
My feet drag, and Stone doesn’t skip a step as he reaches back and scoops me off the ground until I’m dangling under his arm.
It’s not exactly how a woman wants to be swept off her feet, and this position isn’t comfortable in the least, but I’ve got to give credit where credit is due.
The way he just hauled me off the ground without even a second to pause was impressive.
I’m adjusted in his hold, and as he continues running like a bull through the streets of Spain, I peer over his massive shoulder to the men behind us, trapped behind a set of heavy steel gates, jammed with the piece of rebar Stone used earlier to break into the crawl space.
A man strides through the halls, clearly the one who locked them all in there, thumbing through a wad of cash, as though somebody just paid him to do it.
“What the fuck?” I breathe, pieces of Stone’s complicated puzzle coming together.
The trapped men disappear as Stone lunges into the canteen, drops me to my feet, and gets busy with a pair of cuffs and a chain that have been left on the ground. He winds it around the steel bars, chaining us in before yanking on it to check his work.
“It’ll hold, but not for long.”
“What . . . What the hell is going on?” I ask. “Did you just pay that guy to lock the other prisoners up?”
Stone offers a curt nod as he grabs my upper arm and gives me a shove to keep moving. “Had to get rid of them somehow,” he says, leading me toward the kitchen. “Keep your eyes open. Just because the majority of them took off to find you, doesn’t mean that’s all of them. The threat hasn’t passed.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat, the adrenaline keeping me going. “You understand how fucked up this is, right?”
“For you, maybe,” he says. “For me, this is everyday life. You made sure of that.”
“Really? You’re going to bring that shit up right now?
Right as you’re trying to pull off some ridiculous attempt to break out?
” I grunt, trying to keep up with him again.
“You know, you’re going to feel really fucking stupid when we eventually get out of here and you realize you’ve had the wrong girl this whole time.
I swear, delusional doesn’t even begin to cover it. ”
“Shut your fucking mouth and get in the kitchen.”
I put my hand to my chest and roll my eyes. “Oh my, exactly what every woman wants to hear from a man. You’re the whole package, aren’t you?”
He clenches his jaw, and for just a moment, I have to remind myself who the hell I’m dealing with.
Stone isn’t just some random asshole in a bar who needs to be knocked back a few pegs.
He’s a convicted murderer serving four life sentences.
Perhaps baiting him like this isn’t exactly in my best interest.
Deciding to do myself a favor, I shut my mouth as requested and follow Stone into the kitchen—then skid to a sudden halt as I find an inmate sitting on an old milk crate, simply staring at the two of us. He’s clearly trying to work out what the hell is going on here.
His gaze takes me in from head to toe, but he doesn’t look at me the same way the other prisoners did. He seems gentle, like a kind soul, and it puts me off. What’s a man like that doing in a place like this?
The man lets out a disappointed sigh before fixing his stare on Stone. “Ahhhhh man, are you trying to escape?”
“Yeah, Doc.”
I gape at Stone as he surveys the kitchen, looking over all the piping and shit I don’t understand. What is he doing admitting that he’s trying to break out? Is he trying to screw this whole plan?
“Don’t suppose you want to take me with you.”
“Today ain’t your day, Doc,” Stone says, distracted by the room as he continues casing it. “You’re only going to slow me down, and then I’d have to kill you. I don’t want to do that.”
“Damn,” Doc says, slowly nodding in understanding before shifting his gaze back to me with a strange curiosity. “You’re taking the pretty lady? You’re not going to hurt her, are you? Not like how the others want to.”
My heart warms at this strange man. He seems misunderstood. Like some kind of giant teddy bear that somehow landed himself in a bad spot and just needs someone to have his back.
“No, Doc. I’m not planning on raping her.”
I can’t help but scoff. “You’re still planning on killing me, though. Maybe I’m better off staying with Doc here.”
“Go right ahead,” Stone says, fixing himself in front of the industrial refrigerator with a strange reluctance. “But just because he doesn’t want to rape you like every other fucker in this building, doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have his own plans for you.”
My gaze shoots straight back to Doc, noticing how a slow smile creeps across his lips, and suddenly he doesn’t look like a giant teddy bear anymore. He looks like a fucking maniac. “Wait. What’s that supposed to mean?”
Doc chuckles to himself and gets to his feet. “Pleasure to meet you,” he says, holding out his hand toward me. “When was the last time you ate, pretty girl? Are you hungry?”
“I, ummmm . . .” I find myself inching closer to Stone, suddenly very unsure of this man, but still not wanting to be rude, I go to shake his hand, only Stone smacks it away.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” he questions me. “I just told you this guy has his own plans for you, and you go to shake his hand? Where’s the common sense?”
“Well, excuse me,” I snap back. “I must be a little rusty on my prison etiquette.”
“Yeah, and so’s the fork Doc’s planning on harvesting your organs with,” he says, watching as my eyes bug right out of my head. “He’s not trying to be a gentleman. He’s trying to calculate how much shit is making its way through your digestive track.”
Doc chuckles and sits his ass back down, while having the audacity to look bashful. “It’s true,” he chimes, making me wonder if it’s actually an asylum he should be in, strapped into a straitjacket.
“For what it’s worth, she hasn’t eaten anything,” Stone says, assessing the massive refrigerator as though it’s somehow standing in our way. “My guess is that she stress-ate Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups the whole way here, only to throw them back up in the parking lot.”
I gape at Stone. “How the fuck could you possibly know that?”
Stone smirks to himself. “A mint before trying to get in my face during your bullshit interview wouldn’t have gone astray.”
My jaw drops. Absolutely mortified. But judging by the way he continues to focus on the fridge, my vomit breath seems to be the last thing on his mind.
“Alright,” he mutters to himself, cracking his neck. “Here goes.”
I stare at him, having no fucking idea what he’s talking about, when he stretches his arms out wide like the fucking giant that he is and grabs hold of either side of the walk-in fridge before pulling as hard as he can.
He strains as the veins in his arms protrude like snakes curling around his massive forearms. His face turns red, and just when I think it’s impossible, I hear a sharp pop pop pop of the bolts behind the fridge breaking out of the wall.
“Holy fucking shit,” I breathe, watching as he shifts the fridge just enough for us to be able to squeeze behind it.
Stone releases his hold on the fridge, shaking out his arms before bracing his hands on his knees, needing a second to catch his breath. “What’s behind there?” he grunts, nodding toward the back of the fridge.
I glance back there with a cringe, seeing a mess of old cobwebs and dead rats, and as I creep closer and peer around the corner, I pause, finding a piece of sheet metal that’s been bolted to the wall.
“There’s something there,” I tell him. “It’s a piece of metal screwed to the wall, like it’s covering something up. ”
Stone grins, his eyes lighting up like fireworks, and for just a moment, everything stops.
“We’re getting out of here, Menace,” he says, whipping around and searching the kitchen drawers. He comes up with a butter knife, and shit, his happiness is so contagious that I don’t even bother reminding him that I’m not this menace he keeps referring to. “Fuck yeah.”
He strides around me, his hand coming down in the perfect arc over my ass and shocking the crap out of me, then he disappears behind the massive walk-in fridge.
I stare after him.
Did that really happen?
My ass is still stinging from his firm spank, so it must have happened. But the question is, why the hell did I like it so much?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Are you staying with me, pretty lady?” Doc murmurs, slowly getting to his feet.
“Oh, fuck no!”
I hurry around the back of the fridge, having to duck and weave past all the shit that’s accumulated back here over the past forty years. Stone is already getting to work, jamming the butter knife behind the metal sheet and popping the little rivets out of the wall one by one.
“What’s behind there?” I ask as he bends the sheet out of the way to get a good handhold, making it possible for him to rip the rest of the metal clean off the wall.
“Judging by the smell, it’s the old sewer line.”
“Holy shit.”
“Holy shit, alright,” he murmurs as we hear a commotion coming from deeper in C-block, telling me that the piece of rebar holding the other prisoners back has begun to fail.
“Come on,” Stone says, tossing the metal plate aside to reveal the old opening in the wall. It’s tight, but it’ll do. “We get one fucking shot at this, so you better not hold me back. I have no problem losing dead weight. Is that clear?”
I nod, nerves soaring through my stomach.
“Understand this, Aria. The guards and SWAT teams they have called in are trained to shoot first and ask questions later. If you make a sound or try to alert anyone, they will start shooting, and if they’re going to take me out, I’m going to ensure you come down right along with me. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Good. Then get in.”