Chapter 19 Savi #3
“You get one chance to answer,” Alex told him, still bracing the white coat over his mouth. “Otherwise your hand will be nothing but a smear on the floor by the time we’re finished, and then we’ll start on your other one. Do you understand?”
Franklin nodded, an agonised noise escaping as he hyperventilated.
Alex lifted the white coat, but Savi didn’t lift her foot.
“She’s in the east cellar,” Franklin stuttered, tears hanging off his nose. “The entrance is in the s-storage room two doors down. On the left. It’s the b-black key, the one that’s bent. Please—”
Finally, she stepped away. His confirmation was nearly Savi’s undoing. Her mother had been here all along. Emotions stung her eyes, from overwhelming relief to grief to furious rage at the fact that they had been separated.
By Raj.
“And the condoms and the cuffs in your drawer?” Alex carried on, his attention on Franklin. “What are they for?”
“I had a g-girl down in the cellar who I visited.”
A muscle flexed in Alex’s jaw. “Had?”
“I moved her to my home a few weeks ago.”
“Is she still there now?”
Franklin nodded.
Alex straightened; his free hand still braced on Franklin’s neck. “And you haven’t used them on anyone else?”
“No.” The word came out as a terrified, raspy vow.
“Get up,” Alex spat, climbing to his feet with ease.
He hooked his hand into Franklin’s collar, yanking him up from behind as the man sobbed in agony, cradling his ruined hand.
The sight of it turned her stomach, the misaligned bones and cracked flesh, dripping with a steady stream of blood. “Hide it in here.”
Franklin cried out in pain as Alex threw his white coat over his hand, swaying on his feet. His own movements were so delicate they were almost weightless, slowly hiding his hand from view.
“Take the key, Savi,” Alex told her, isolating the black one Franklin had identified as he held it out to her. “And check the corridor is empty whilst I ensure our friend stays silent.”
Savi almost ripped it from his grasp, unlocking Franklin’s door and poking her head out into the silent hallway. She heard the hint of a whisper from behind her, but it was too low to discern exactly what threats Alex was making.
She glanced back and gave a steady nod, venturing out into the corridor and immediately turning left.
Two doors down, two doors down. Raw adrenaline roared through her, quickening her heartbeat and her steps alike—although the former gave a jolt when she spied the second door, bearing a large wooden no patient access plaque.
She jammed the key into the lock, wrenching the door open to reveal a small antechamber, perhaps four feet long, ending in a hulking metal door. Three bronze bolts caught her eye, sealing off the east cellar beneath. She went to enter, but Alex held her back.
“No. He goes first.” Alex told her, forcefully shoving Franklin inside the antechamber. The paperweight was still locked in his hand, and Savi didn’t think she’d ever be able to look at a football the same way again. “Unlock it.”
Franklin didn’t put up a fight, unlocking each bolt with one hand before pulling it open, his shoulders still shaking with what Savi assumed was pain. The hinges creaked as Franklin pulled the door open, and the first thing that caught her eye was the sheer weight of it.
The second, though, was the steep stairs that lay hidden behind. Muted light glowed from within, like the desperate hope burning inside her chest.
“Go.” Alex’s harsh tone cut the air, aiming for Franklin. “Either walk down the stairs or be thrown down them.”
Franklin decided on the former, leaning on the wall of exposed brick to his right to steady himself. His whimpering was a constant stream, endlessly spilling forth.
“I do hope that hurts,” a familiar voice said slyly, originating from deep within the cellar.
Savi’s breath stilled in her chest, an icy rush of shock freezing her where she stood, her foot poised over the aged iron staircase.
That was the voice she’d cherished above all others, the one that represented safety when she was a child and security as an adult.
The one she thought had been lost forever. The one that had been taken from her.
She rushed down the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her, uncaring of her own safety. The cellar unfolded before her. The space was the size of her painting room at home, sliced in two by a foot-wide brick wall. Each space was cordoned off by wrought-iron grilles, the metal rusted by time.
One was empty, but the other wasn’t.
A woman stared back at them, her jaw slack with astonishment. She was dressed in the same blouse and skirt as the patients in the orangery. Her hair was longer than it had been, heavily streaked with silver, and secured in a plait that reached her waist. “Priyo?” Beloved?
Savi couldn’t stop the choking sob that shook her. “Ma,” she cried, grief tightening her throat. She shoved past Franklin, reaching through the bars of the grille to make sure this wasn’t an illusion, that her mother was really here.
A ragged gasp of grief left her as her mother’s warm hands wrapped around hers. “Ma,” she repeated, over and over, each more twisted than the last.
“He’s—he’s not brought you down here too, has he?” Ma’s eyes were stricken with fear.
Savi shook her head, dislodging the loose tears gathering on her jawline. “We’re here to get you out.”
Ma’s hands tightened around hers, and a shuddering laugh echoed off the walls of the claustrophobic cell. For the first time ever, Savi saw a tear slip down Ma’s cheek.
Fury surged through her veins at the sight, unable to comprehend the misery that Ma had gone through. Five years in this fucking room. “Which key opens the cell?” Savi spat, turning to Franklin, her gaze murderous.
“It’s the third from the end,” Ma supplied, with a teary sniff.
Savi didn’t hesitate, her fingers working quicker than they ever had before. A dull thunk sounded as she unlocked it, followed by a high-pitched squeal from the hinges—
And then Savi was crushing Ma in the tightest hug she’d ever given, tears streaming down her cheeks as she hyperventilated.
Relief choked her as the Ma-shaped wound in her heart began to stitch itself back together, forming a jagged scar that would forever remain as evidence of the time they’d lost.
“Let’s get you out of this fucking cellar,” Savi croaked, finally able to string together a coherent sentence.
Ma pulled back, her eyes streaked with red through her tears. She wiped Savi’s cheeks. “I had begun to wonder if I’d ever hear those words.”
Savi moved to circle an arm around Ma’s shoulders, blinking as she remembered that they weren’t, in fact, alone in here. Alex stood in front of the stairs; his arms crossed as he stared daggers at their bloodied captive.
She didn’t need to think about what she wanted to do with him. “Get in the cell, Franklin.”
Franklin’s neck shifted as he swallowed. “What?”
“You heard her.” Alex put his hand around the back of Franklin’s neck in an authoritative hold, shoving the doctor past them. “In the cell.”
“I need medical attention!” Franklin exclaimed, his voice breaking as Alex slammed the cell door shut.
“Why?” Savi shrugged, throwing a cold, hateful look over her shoulder. “You’re going to die in here anyway.”
“What?”
She ignored him, helping Ma up the steep iron stairs, conscious of the fact she hadn’t left the cell in years. Alex followed, closing the heavy door on their way out—and sealing Franklin in, alone with his agony.
Ma sucked in a sharp breath as they exited out into the corridor, as luxuriously serene as it was when they’d left it.
She stilled, looking down the hallway before making a beeline for a window on the opposite side.
Her fingers bit into the ledge as she glanced out of it, her shoulders shaking slightly.
Sunlight fell on her in earnest, highlighting the silver growing into her hair.
Savi stood there with her in silence, a hand on her shoulder, knowing that this was just the beginning.
“I’m all right,” Ma eventually managed to say, her breath unsteady. She turned around, wiping her eyes. “You’re leaving him in there to die?”
Savi shook her head. “We’re going to call the police, but I want him to suffer until then.”
There was a hint of amusement in her mother’s eyes, layered beneath a bedrock of sorrow. For the first time, she looked over at Alex, her focus briefly landing on his white forelock. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“This is Alex, Ma.” Savi answered, taking his hand. “He’s my husband.”
Ma jerked in astonishment, a tremor passing over her bottom lip. “Oh, priyo,” she exhaled, grief-stricken. “I missed your wedding.”
Savi tried to wave it away. “It was rubbish anyway,” she half-laughed, half-sobbed. “Wasn’t it, Alex?”
“Other than the bride.” Alex’s gaze was threaded with unwavering devotion. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr Dey.”
Damn it. She was trying to stop crying, and here he was adding ammunition onto the fire.
“Come on, Ma.” Savi gave her a fragile smile. “Let’s take you home.”