Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
MAYA
I had to get out of there. I had to warn Notch somehow.
Whatever my brother was planning, it was massive.
And I knew he would leave no survivors. In the grand scheme of things, I had a feeling how this would go down.
My brother would use me as bait. Lure the entire crew here before slaughtering them off.
Then, he’d do with me as he wished. He’d fully morph into the monster I now saw him as, and I’d be trapped in this damn closet the entire time.
Listening as blood spilt and Notch was killed before I could even do anything.
It was unacceptable. It made me shake with fury and fear.
“I have to get out of here,” I whispered.
The men came and went pretty frequently.
A few opened the door just to make sure I was still there.
One of them brought me water and food whenever I heard my brother demand it of them.
I’d already pissed on myself. It couldn’t get much worse than this in terms of embarrassment.
In terms of humiliation. I closed my eyes and tried coming up with a plan, but I didn’t have much at my disposal with my hands bound and my ankles tied to this damn chair.
But my head still moved.
As I heard footsteps traveling down the hallway, I figured the only way I could get out of here was to get them to untie me.
If I could at least get my ankles free of the zip ties that cut into my skin through my clothes, I stood a very good chance at getting my hands out of the mess they were in.
My arms were going numb, and my toes tingled.
If I lost feeling in all my appendages, I was stuck. No matter what I wanted.
So, I held my breath until I felt lightheaded before I closed my eyes.
“Hey yo, bitch. Got some water for you. Courtesy of your soft ass bro—”
The door flung open and my head fell forward. I slowly let out the breath I held, trying to center myself. The man paused before the light came on, and it took all I had not to flinch. He cursed and murmured to himself before a hand twisted itself into my hair.
“Hey. Wake the fuck up,” he said gruffly.
A hand came down across my cheek, and I forced myself not to wince.
“Wake. Up!” he roared.
He tossed my head back, and I made my body go limp.
The chair teetered on its legs, and I thought I was going backwards.
I braced myself internally, waiting for the snap of my arms against the floor.
But the man stopped the chair from tilting back with his foot.
He mumbled and cursed, practically spitting on me as he tapped my legs and called out for me to wake up.
Splashed the damn water in my face, like that would do anything except make me more of a damn mess.
“Fuck,” he spat.
A knife clicked before my legs were freed.
Yes. Holy fuck, yes. Acting as if I had passed out was working.
He gripped my shirt and ripped me up from my seat, sliding the knife around to my back.
The blade traveled, and I tried not to let it dig into my skin.
My head flopped around as he snapped the ties on my wrists, and I automatically felt blood rushing through my veins.
The tingling was too much to bear. It felt like someone was stabbing me with a thousand of those knives the man had in his hand.
“Harry’s gonna kill me,” the man murmured.
Good.
He splayed me out on the ground, panicking.
Waves of worry tumbled off him in droves.
My back lay there against the floor, and he spread my arms out, seemingly ready to try and give me CPR despite the fact that I was breathing.
Not a bright one there. Was this all the help Harry could muster with his fancy new job that paid for his expensive-ass suits?
The knife fell to the ground as the man settled his hands over my chest.
The knife rested underneath my fingertips, and I slowly reached for it.
I curled my hand around the base of the knife as the man questioned what he was supposed to do.
And I had a plan for either path he took.
Men cried out for him, wondering what the fuck was taking him so long to get back to their card game.
Their fucking poker game.
“Shit. Breathing first, I think,” the man whispered.
Perfection.
The second he came face to face with me, my eyes popped open.
He lurched back, and I followed him, crashing my head into his nose.
His blood sprayed onto my forehead. He grunted out in pain as I came around with the knife.
I jammed it into his back, pulling and tugging the only way I knew how.
And when he stumbled back into the wall, I scrambled off the ground.
“See ya, sucker,” I said, grinning.
I raced out of the small closet and looked down both hallways.
I heard voices, but I didn’t see bodies.
I was in the closet of a small room, and that small room didn’t have any damn windows.
The man struggled to breathe behind me. He gurgled on something, and I forced myself not to look back.
I grabbed a pen off the dresser, not seeing anything else I could possibly grab to defend myself.
From the looks of it, I was in a warehouse.
Some sort of place designed to house and feed men, though it wasn’t really a house.
Or a lodge. Or anything like that. So much metal and such hard floors.
It was almost inhospitable, and the bedroom furniture seemed wholly out of place.
But it didn’t matter. Even warehouses still had doors and windows. I needed to find one of them too. So, after creeping out into the hallway, I silently closed the door behind me.
I inched my way out into the hallway as the men continued to curse and yell for someone named Ralph. I tiptoed into the room across the hallway, looking around to see if there was a way out of this damn place.
And thank heavens, there was a window.
I ran the pen along the painted windowsill, listening as the paint flaked.
The window jarred itself open, and I slowly eased it up.
It made way too much noise for my liking, but I didn’t have a choice.
If I encountered those men, they’d shoot me on the spot.
I knew it. And my brother would watch with pride in those devilish eyes of his.
I stabbed at the screen with the pen, poking a big enough hole until I could tear it with my fingers.
The sound of chairs scraped against the floor as I climbed up onto the windowsill, inching my way through the small hole.
I never thought I’d enjoy how petite I was until that very moment.
I tumbled to the ground, thankful that I was only on the first floor.
Guess my brother didn’t think that much of me.
I gripped the pen tightly in my hands as I pulled myself up from the dirt and the dust, and then I ran as fast as I could.
I didn’t look back. I didn’t try to see what was going on.
If I could make a break for the edge of the small wooded patch in the distance and shroud myself in shadows, I’d be free.
Free to get my ass lost and eaten by wild animals. But free, nonetheless.
The men yelled as I made a break across the lawn.
Their scattered footsteps faded into the background as the wind kicked up, swirling and shrouding me in a wall of dust. I thanked Mother Earth for her cloak and dagger.
For her ability to encase me in invisibility so I could get to the woods.
Tears crested my eyes as pain rushed throughout my body.
My cheek hurt. My neck hurt. My legs ached and my arms were still regaining their strength.
Then, I heard it.
The sound of motorcycles rumbling in the distance.
I dove into the shadows and rolled until I hit a tree. I looked back at the house, watching in the distance as the men poked their heads out of the window. I clapped my hand over my mouth when gunshots rang out. When glass broke. And even from the distance I sat, I heard my brother yelling.
“I’m coming for you, Maya!”
I backed myself into a tree as the growing sound of motorcycles dawned on my ears.
I wanted to make a break for the sound, but if I showed myself, I stood a chance at being shot.
At being killed. I saw the lights in the house turning off one by one as the sound of roaring motorcycles grew closer.
And when I smelled the dust they were kicking up, I made my second break.
I ran, full force, toward the sound.
Hoping beyond all hope Notch was with them.