Chapter 12 #2
“For fuck’s sake!” My voice is high and agitated.
“Ashling.” His voice is low and steady and right above my head.
It’s the first time he’s called me by my name down here. That’s something he almost never does. In the past, his lack of addressing me directly has been a way of keeping me at arm’s length, I think.
I lick my dry lips. “What?”
“I’m gonna get out. And you’ll be with me.” His confidence eases my fear. Somewhat.
“I don’t know. We’re so lost.”
“A bit,” he admits.
“Well, if you’re sure,” I say sarcastically. “I was worried, but now, no.”
He releases me, and I drop onto my bare feet. As he starts to move again. I reach out and blindly grab at him. My fingers catch on the elastic of his boxer briefs, and a second later, his fingers grip my wrist hard enough that I let go.
“Sorry.” My voice is soft, and I hate the way it sounds. Scared and desperate. Weak.
I swallow and stiffen. To hell with this. What good is fear when I’m already lost? And why am I chasing an asshole who hates me when I’m not even sure he can find the way out?
“Fuck it.” My voice goes flat and cold. “Go then. If I lose you, so be it.”
War’s grip on my wrist tightens again, and my arm is pulled taut as he starts forward. “Come on.”
I say nothing. I’ll let my shoulder get dislocated before I say another word to him .
Something bangs and skids over the dirt, and he curses.
“Hang on,” he says, letting go of my arm. After a few moments, there’s a sudden beam of light.
Sucking in a startled breath, I see him rise from a crouch holding a blue stainless steel flashlight that he must have kicked over. Shining the light down the corridor causes a recess in the wall to come into view.
He strides forward, and I follow.
It’s another cell, but this one’s nicer.
There’s a queen-sized bed on a wood frame with a matching dresser and a leather chair and ottoman in the corner.
There’s also an enclosed bathroom. A set of new sheets and a pillow, still in plastic, sit at the foot of the mattress, along with towels, a washcloth and a bar of soap.
“What the fuck?” I murmur, bewildered. “It’s like a hotel room in a jail cell.”
The beam of light moves above the headboard, stopping on a chain hanging from a round bolt anchored into the wall.
War walks into the cell and lifts the chain. There’s a black leather wrist cuff at the end. He lets the cuff drop and then walks to the dresser. Opening the top drawer, he peers inside and then shuts it.
I’m curious, but I refuse to set foot in another underground cell.
Turning, he strolls out and past me. He turns the light in the direction we came from and walks over to a door we didn’t see. It’s solid metal with horizontal cross bars. He shuts it and pulls the cross bars closed until they slide into the wall.
Rubbing the swollen part of my lip with my tongue, I frown. “That’s the kind of door they closed on us by the other cell.”
“Yeah.” Turning, he walks past the cell and onward.
I glance at the locked door behind us. I guess it makes sense to stop the kidnappers from following us, but I can’t imagine they would.
I trail behind War, no longer rushing to keep up. The corridor curves and then makes a sharp right turn. In front of us is a wall. There are bare two-by-fours with wide strips of pink insulation between them.
It’s a dead end. Someone closed up the way out. I want to scream.
War walks to the insulation and tugs it loose. Behind it, there’s a solid gray cinderblock wall. It really is the Cask of Amontillado. At least in this corridor.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my shoulders sagging. Shaking my head, I exhale a sigh.
He glances over his shoulder at me and then turns.
“Do you think the water from the shower is safe to drink?” I ask.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m really thirsty, and we may be walking for a long time before we find more water.”
His dark eyes study me, and his expression is inscrutable. His natural quietness has returned to him. Apparently, his body has metabolized all the drug they managed to shoot into him.
“I’ll run it into my hands and see how it looks and smells.” As I start to turn, he reaches out and catches my arm, pulling me to a stop.
“I’ve got a question for you.”
“Yes?” Looking up at his face, I wait.
His coarse black whiskers cover his jaw almost completely. I know it can’t be, but I swear his beard looks an inch longer than it was when the lantern went out.
“What will you give me if I get you out of here?”
My eyes widen. “What do you mean? Did you see another door?” I look around, spotting nothing but the wood and stone wall.
“I want a night.” His voice is low, tone serious. “When I say I’m coming to get you, you’ll be ready and waiting.” Apparently, my confusion shows because he continues. “And you won’t say a word to anyone else about it. From now on, anything that happens between us stays between us. ”
“What are you talking about?”
“If you agree to my terms, we’ll go.”
Tilting my head, I try to suss out whether he’s lost his mind. I know the drugs have worn off because he’s steady on his feet, and a few minutes ago, he managed to catch me and stop me from falling even without a sliver of light.
“If you have a way out, War, let’s see it.”
He’s silent, watching me in a predatory way.
Things inside me twist into knots. I kind of like that he wants some unholy bargain that ties us together in secret.
On the other hand, what in the actual fuck?
We’re in the devil’s underground, trying to escape as a team.
I shouldn’t need to make deals. I’ve already killed our enemies to save his life.
“I don’t have to agree to anything.” My voice is snow-cone cool. “Once you leave, I’ll just follow you.”
Without a word, he walks into the cell and sits in the leather chair.
“What the hell?” I exhale heavily and walk back to the sealed wall. Pulling on the insulation, I study the cinderblocks and then push my hands against them. Solid stone with mortar between the blocks. Not even my minotaur companion is breaking through that.
I stalk past the cell, returning to the steel door. I examine it and run my hands over it. It’s also exactly as solid as it appears.
Calling out over my shoulder, I ask, “What’s the trick?”
Naturally, he doesn’t answer. He leans back in the chair as though he could live a lifetime in this underworld. A muscle-bound Hades, and I’m his Persephone.
Running my hands over the dirt walls, I feel for a secret exit or latch to open a trap door. Nothing.
A half an hour must pass before I finally give up, scowling at how filthy my hands are.
When I return to the cell’s bars, War’s tree stump legs are outstretched and his feet rest on the leather ottoman.
As though he’s reclining in the media room in C’s mansion.
For fuck’s sake. He’s a complete psycho .
Giving him my hardest stare, I say, “I want to go.”
“Do we have an agreement?”
“If you want to spend the night with me, you can earn that the same way any other guy would. By asking me out on a fucking date. Buy me dinner. And some flowers, maybe.”
His dark expression never changes as he watches me.
“You really want to go with extortion, War? That’s your play?”
The man uses silence as a weapon. With supreme effectiveness.
Licking my bruised upper lip, I shrug. “All right.”
With no hesitation, he counters, “All right, what?”
“All right, I’ll spend a night with you. At a time of your choosing.”
Raising a hand, he bends his left index finger to beckon me to him.
“No. I don’t want to go inside a cell.”
He rises. “No one’s going to lock us in here, Ash. The padlock for the door is in the dresser drawer.
I glance at the cell door and see what he means. There’s a latch where a lock has to go through to secure it. Currently, it’s empty.
War emerges from the cell and comes to a stop in front of me. His thumb brushes my upper lip where it’s swollen. “What can you tell me about the guy who did this? Is he one of the ones who’s dead?”
“I don’t know. I was between druggings when it happened. But I think I know who ordered it. And he’s still alive.”
“Who?”
“Crosby Bergmann. At least I think it was his voice ordering them to make me drink. I couldn’t swear to it, though.”
War nods. “Did you let him fuck you?”
“When?” I scoff.
“Not during all this. I mean before.”
“What business is that of yours?” I don’t know why I even care enough to leave him in suspense. He’s clearly lost his mind, and therefore, I owe him nothing. Except he’s not acting crazy. War seems calm. Eerily so.
“It’s my business because I asked the question.” His tone of voice rattles me. It’s confident and entitled.
Cocking an eyebrow, I tilt my head. “I agreed to give you one night, not unrestricted access to my personal life and its secrets.”
Silence falls like a hammer as he stares down at me.
“What’s this really about, War? Do you want to have sex with me to get even with someone? Is that it? Because in that case, you’re an even bigger asshole than I thought.”
“If I was gonna use you to get even with someone, who would that be? Not your high school boyfriend, Spencer Geary. You gave that guy a terminal case of blue balls he still hasn’t recovered from.”
My brows shoot up. How the hell does he know who Spencer is? We broke up long before War arrived on the Crue scene.
“Spence is a good guy. And he’s engaged now to a cool girl he met in college. Stay away from him.”
“You know who he would like to be engaged to? A cool little cocktease he dated for over a year who wouldn’t give up her V card.”
War must be fishing. Spencer and I are friends. Always have been. He would never tell a stranger personal things about me.
“He never even tried to get it,” I say dismissively. “Not really.”
The corner of War’s mouth curves into a nasty smirk. “Who did get it?”
“None of your fucking business.” I slap my palms against his ribs, trying to shove him. “Now do what you claimed you could do, and get us out of here.”