Chapter 20 Amanda
AMANDA
I woke up to cold.
It crawled up my back, soaking through my shirt, and burrowed into my spine like it had been waiting. My head throbbed, sharp and rhythmic, and when I opened my eyes, the light overhead flickered like it couldn’t make up its mind whether to stay on or go dark for good.
Concrete.
The kind that leached heat instead of holding it. The kind that made your bones ache no matter how you positioned yourself.
I tried to roll my shoulders. Pain spiked and stopped me short.
Okay.
Not broken.
Just restrained.
My arms were behind me, shoulders aching, wrists bound tight. Not rope. Zip ties. Industrial grade. My legs were free, but that didn’t matter much when everything above the waist was already screaming.
The air was still. Damp. It carried the scent of oil and metal, dust and mildew. Warehouse, maybe. Storage facility. No windows that I could see. Just a high ceiling with exposed beams and a single buzzing strip light overhead. Shadows pooled in the corners, thick and unmoving.
I blinked hard and tried to sit up. My stomach turned, the world tilting for a moment before I found balance again. My mouth was dry. My brain felt cotton-stuffed and slow.
But I wasn’t alone.
A shape moved across the room. Small. Curled in on itself like it was trying to disappear.
A girl.
She was sitting against the far wall, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around them like they were the only thing holding her together. Her head was bowed, blonde hair tangled and dirty, and even from here, I could see the swelling on her cheek.
She looked young. Too young. Maybe eighteen.
She looked like I had the first time I saw the inside of a cage.
I didn’t say anything yet. I just watched her for a few more seconds, letting the details settle into my brain while I fought the disorientation clawing at the edges. Every sound echoed. Every heartbeat thudded too loud.
And under all of it, beneath the fear and fog, something sharper began to rise.
I wasn’t panicking.
Panic had teeth.
Panic made you sloppy.
And I couldn’t afford sloppy.
Not yet.
I was calculating.
She must’ve felt me looking, because her head lifted slowly.
Wide eyes. Bloodshot. Blue, maybe? It was hard to tell in the flickering light. Her lips were cracked, and there was a tremble in her jaw like she’d been holding it together for too long.
“You’re awake,” she said softly, voice hoarse.
“Yeah,” I managed. My throat burned.
She shifted toward me. Didn’t get up. Didn’t even unfold her legs. But she leaned just enough that I could see the caution in her face. Not fear of me, exactly. Just fear. Everywhere. Woven into her posture, her silence, the way her eyes darted to the shadows every few seconds.
“They brought you in a while ago,” she said. “You didn’t wake up for a long time. I thought maybe—” She stopped, pressing her lips together.
“How long?”
“I don’t know. They don’t give us clocks or anything. But…a few hours? Maybe more.”
Her gaze flicked to my wrists. “They used the same ties on me, but I think mine are looser. I already tried the door. It’s metal. Locked from the outside. No vents except that one.” She nodded toward the upper corner of the far wall, where a rusted grate barely clung to the concrete.
Smart girl.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
She hesitated. “Hailey.”
“Amanda.”
She nodded, like she already knew. “They were talking about you.”
My skin went cold. Of course they were.
I’d felt it for weeks now. The way the air shifted when we locked down the compound. The way Ghost lingered too long on certain feeds. The way Wrecker’s hand never quite left my back.
This wasn’t opportunistic.
It was planned.
“What did they say?”
Her eyes dropped to the floor. “Just that you weren’t supposed to be brought in yet. That the ‘order got rushed.’ One of them was mad about it.”
I swallowed hard, jaw tight. “Did they say anything else?”
“They said…” Her voice cracked. “They said the redhead was bait. That you were the target. I think—” She cut herself off again. “I think they’ve been watching you for a while.”
I already knew that. But hearing it from someone else made the rage surge.
I shifted my weight, leaning against the wall to brace my back. Every muscle felt like it had been wrung out and stapled back in wrong. But my brain, finally, was clearing.
They didn’t know what I’d learned.
They didn’t know who I’d become.
And they didn’t get to win.
Not this time.
Hailey was watching me carefully now, like she couldn’t quite figure me out.
I couldn’t blame her.
The last time I was locked in a room like this, I didn’t make it out whole.
But this time wasn’t the same. I wasn’t the girl they’d tried to break before.
I’d been rebuilding every piece of myself since I got to the compound, since I met the Iron Battalion MC.
Since I realized I wasn’t weak. I was a weapon waiting to be aimed.
And right now? I was aiming.
I scanned the room again, slower this time.
I mapped it in my head the way Cap and Ranger had taught me.
Corners.
Angles.
Blind spots.
Nothing here was accidental. Not the lack of windows. Not the way the light only covered the center of the room. Not the placement of the drain, which was far enough away that you’d have to move to reach it.
Movement meant exposure.
Exposure meant consequences.
Concrete floors. Cinderblock walls. No windows. Only one door that was metal, with a bar lock on the outside. No food, no water. Just a single drain near the far corner, and a long rust stain running from it like it had been used for more than plumbing.
There were stains on the wall, too. Smears. Like someone had been dragged.
Hailey followed my gaze and shivered.
“It’s just us for now,” she whispered. “But they come in sometimes. Not to talk. Just to… look.”
She didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask. My stomach was already twisting.
I shifted my hands again, testing the zip ties.
Too tight to slip. But the longer I sat, the more the plastic would warm, the more I’d sweat, the hopefully more give I might get.
I’d watched Brutus demonstrate that very trick during a training exercise.
He’d said, “Your body is always a tool. You just gotta know how to use it.”
And if I was lucky, whoever tied these had gotten sloppy.
I looked at Hailey. “Have they touched you?”
I watched her closely as she answered. Not just her words. But her shoulders, her hands, the way her breath hitched before she spoke.
Trauma had patterns.
So did lies.
Her eyes widened, and her shoulders curled in.
“No,” she said quickly. “No, not like that. Just… moved me. Tied me up. Made sure I couldn’t run.”
“Okay,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “That’s good. That’s something.”
She looked at me like she wanted to believe I had a plan.
So I gave her one.
Hope wasn’t comfort.
Hope was structure.
And right now, we both needed something solid to hold onto.
“They’re gonna come back,” I said quietly. “And when they do, I need you to be ready. Watch everything. Where they look. Where they step. What they’re carrying. And if they talk, remember what they say. You don’t have to understand it now. Just hold onto it.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“Because we’re not staying here,” I said. “And every detail you remember gets us one step closer to getting the hell out.”
The silence shifted.
Not loud. Not sharp.
Just different.
Like something on the other side of the wall had moved. Like the air wasn’t settled anymore.
Hailey’s fingers curled tighter around her knees. I tilted my head, listening. There, faint and muffled. The groan of old hinges. A footstep on metal. More than one set. Heavy boots. Pacing.
They were close.
The lights overhead flickered.
Once.
Then again.
My breath caught.
No alarms. No yells. Just that quiet hum of danger rising like the start of a storm.
Hailey looked at me, eyes wide. “What do we do?”
I didn’t answer right away.
My mind ran the checklist like Wrecker drilled into me.
Evaluate. Assess. Decide.
There was nowhere to run. No way to fight. Not yet. But we weren’t helpless. Not unless we gave in.
“We stay quiet,” I murmured. “We stay alert.”
The footsteps stopped.
Then, a new sound: the mechanical thunk of a deadbolt unlocking.
I shifted closer to Hailey and tucked her behind me. My heart pounded, but my hands didn’t shake.
They wanted fear.
I’d give them fire instead.