Chapter 5
FIVE
EMMA
Two days prior
There was no warning before the door flew open, only the sudden crash of wood against stone and the blur of a body moving faster than thought.
The shape of his shoulders, the way he moved as though the whole world had narrowed to this single point, to me. And then that face—that face—somehow still so stupidly, heartbreakingly beautiful, even streaked with blood and lit by the flickering lights. The sight of him shattered something in me.
“Caden!” I cried out, my voice breaking. “Caden, in here!”
His gaze locked on mine, and everything about him shifted.
His whole body went taut, like the sight of me undid something inside him.
Then he launched himself off the stairs as if gravity didn’t apply, hitting the ground hard and sprinting toward me like he’d tear through hell itself if that’s what it took to reach me.
By the time he dropped to his knees in front of me, I was sobbing so hard I could barely see.
He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t speak. He simply ripped through the chains as if they were paper and pulled me straight into his arms, wrapping me up like he never wanted to let go.
“Shh,” he whispered. “Baby, I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
I clung to him like a fucking koala, buried my face in his chest and let everything go—the fear, the cold, the grief that had been crushing me since the moment my parents died.
“I knew you’d come,” I sobbed. “I knew you’d find me.”
His hand threaded through my hair, holding me close. “Always, Nightcrawler,” he murmured, all quiet and fierce. “I’ll always find you.”
“Hey. Hey, Emma.”
Someone gripped my shoulder, gentle but steady.
I blinked into darkness. Real darkness.
Cold stone walls, the ache in my back, the weight of the chains… Everything came flooding back.
I turned my head enough to see Amy crouched beside me, her brow furrowed with worry.
“You were talking,” she said softly, her hand still on my arm. “In your sleep.”
I swallowed, heart pounding like I’d just run ten miles. My whole body trembled, riddled with sadness it had been a dream.
Amy leaned in a little closer. “Who’s Caden?”
I closed my eyes. Only for a moment. Long enough to pretend his arms were still around me, his voice still in my ear.
Then I drew a breath and sat up slowly, the cold settling deeper into my bones. “How long was I out this time?”
Amy pulled back, giving me space. “Not long. Maybe three hours.”
My body ached from the awkward angle the chains forced me into, and my wrists had become raw and blistered from the metal cuffs.
Every time I shifted, they bit into my skin, sending fresh waves of pain up my arms.
Since my arrival, Dave had been back down here twice.
The first time, he brought a slice of stale bread and a bottle of water, tossing them at my feet like I was a dog.
The second time, it was only to remind me of his impatience, his sick grin plastered across his face as he barked about how long I was already down there.
Nineteen hours.
Meanwhile, my mind still churned with calculations.
My ankle still throbbed, but the pain had eased a bit, which was a good sign, though it would still slow me down.
I had no provisions left, which meant if I managed to get out of here, I’d have to find a way to stock up somewhere, risking exposure.
Unless I could overpower the asshole and raid his kitchen, which would be the better but more impossible option.
Amy, as it turned out, had a strong will of her own.
Once I’d convinced her his biggest mistake had been to keep us together, a spark of defiance began to reignite in her.
Which gave her strength. Every second we were left alone was spent trying to free ourselves from the chains and cuffs that bound us.
Her cuffs were looser than mine, the result of almost a month of undernutrition, giving us a slight advantage to work with.
I’d bombarded her with questions, piecing together what I could. So far, I knew we were still in New Hampshire, likely near the border. Which meant I wasn’t far off my original route to Kanata C, a small but significant consolation amid the chaos.
“I think I can slide out of them now, but even if I do, it will take both of us to overpower him. How are you getting out of yours?” Amy sounded ten times stronger than the day before, and I admired her for bouncing back so quickly.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “I can’t get out of these without the key. Once we have it, we’ll have to move fast.”
“How fast?”
I met her gaze, holding it steady. “Fast. And you’re not going to like my plan.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Tell me.”
“You’re going to pretend you’re in love with him,” I said, forcing myself to stay calm, though every nerve in my body rebelled against the words. “You’ll act as if I did exactly what he asked me to.”
She blinked once before she wrapped her arms tightly around herself like they could shield her from the reality I was laying out. “Well, that’s great,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm, “but how does that help us?”
I leaned forward as much as the restraints allowed. “He keeps the key on the right side of his pants. When he moves in close to you, and he will, you grab it. You slip it off and throw it to me.”
Amy froze, her wide stare locking onto mine. “Then what?”
“Then you trust me to get out of these chains, we overpower him, and we get the hell out of here.”
Her expression darkened with lips pressing into a tight line. “And if either of us screws up?”
I didn’t soften it. “You’ll likely get raped, and I’ll get killed.”
Amy stilled, her face draining of color as the weight of what I’d said settled in. I cursed myself for being so direct, but there wasn’t room nor time for sugarcoating here, not with the stakes as high as they were. At least I felt numb. It was the only thing keeping me together.
She stared at me for a long moment, her breath shallow. Then, flatly, she said, “Well, that’s one risky hell of a Plan A.”
I snorted despite myself. “Yeah, not exactly foolproof. But it’s the best shot we’ve got.”
I straightened my spine. “It’s the only shot.”
Amy looked down, her fingers twisting the edge of her blanket. “What if I can’t do it?” she whispered, so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.
“You can,” I said firmly. “You’ve been surviving this long. You’re stronger than you think.”
Her gaze flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, something shifted in her expression. Determination. Fear. A mix of both. “Fine,” she said, her voice steadying. “Let’s do it.”
As if on cue, the door at the top of the stairs creaked open.
“Witch,” he called out with mock cheer. “How’s my disgusting miracle worker doing today? Ready to make some magic?”
I gritted my teeth and forced my will to survive into action.
“I did it!” I yelled back, hoping for the best outcome of this insane plan. “I did what you asked me to do.”
My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would split my ribs. Amy’s eyes darted to mine, her unbound hands hidden behind her back. My throat was as dry as sandpaper.
Please let this work.
Dave barreled down the stairs like an unhinged animal, too feral to notice Amy’s cuffs were gone. He stopped at the bottom step, his lips twisting into something that might have been a grin on someone sane. On him, it was a grotesque display of teeth and madness.
“Amy,” I croaked, hoping she’d catch on to my cue.
She gave an almost imperceivable nod.
“Dave,” she purred. “You were right. I should have listened to you. I see it now.” She remained seated, her body slumped into an almost submissive manner. “You’re everything to me.”
His face lit up, and my stomach churned. There was something terrifying about the way his joy twisted his features, as if every muscle in his face was pulled too tight. A predator preparing to pounce.
“Prove it,” he growled, as he stepped toward her.
Amy hesitated, her gaze flicking to mine for the briefest second before her lips parted. “Kiss me,” she whispered, barely above a breath.
For a moment, the room went still, the silence almost louder than the blood roaring in my ears. Then Dave surged forward, both his hands gripping her arms as his mouth collided with hers. Amy’s face twisted, a flicker of revulsion threatening to break through, but she held the line.
I forced myself not to move, not to flinch, even as my instincts screamed at me to stop this. Second-guessing a plan is a fast way to die, I reminded myself.
Her fingers brushed against his side, trembling as they slid into his pocket. I held my breath, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it. Dave’s groan rumbled through the room as he deepened the kiss, his arms tightening around Amy.
Then he froze.
My stomach plummeted. His head tilted slightly, as though some distant instinct was whispering to him. My nails dug into my palms, every muscle in my body screaming to act, to do something, but I didn’t dare move.
Amy hesitated for a fraction of a second, her hand still in his pocket, before she leaned into him, her lips brushing his cheek in a sickeningly intimate gesture. “I’m yours, Dave,” she murmured, faking a lover’s confession.
It worked. His suspicion melted into a smug, twisted grin, his grip on her arms loosening just enough. Her hand emerged from his pocket, the small, glinting key clutched between her fingers.
She didn’t miss a beat. With a casual grace that betrayed the terror locked in her rigid posture, her fingers tightened around the key. Without hesitation, she slid it across the floor toward me, the faint scrape of metal on stone slicing through the suffocating silence.
The cold metal skidded to a stop, inches from my hand, and I snatched it up, my movements quick but silent. Within seconds, my cuffs and chains fell to the floor with a muffled clang.
Pain flared in my ankle, but I shoved it aside.
Survival wasn’t always choice, but right now, it was a primal, unshakable drive.