Chapter 21
Casey
I came to slowly, my head aching, body shivering, and when I opened my eyes, I could barely make out my surroundings in the dim light.
Around me, I could hear whimpering, someone coughing, and hushed whispers.
I wasn’t alone. I rubbed my eyes, trying to snap out of it when my memories came flooding back to me, piece by piece.
Class in the morning, leaving with Haldon, the explosions one after another after another… the panic, students running and crying, the teachers trying desperately to remain calm and guide everyone out… Mr. Kennard, Hunter, the Faceless, Haldon, Shaw, Lee, and Vail…
I sat up so fast that someone nearby cried out in surprise.
I was in a cell, much like a prison cell.
The walls and floor were concrete, but one wall was barred, shared by another cell, and another next to that.
The other barred wall looked into an open space where a couch, a round, wooden table, and chairs sat.
The only lighting came from industrial-looking lamps set up on side tables on either end of the rich brown leather chesterfield. There were none in the cells.
I shared mine with four other girls, while there were about ten more in total in the next two.
I groaned as a sharp headache hit me, probably from my fall down the stairs.
It felt like a nail was being driven into my skull.
I breathed deeply, letting my head fall between my legs as I tried to wrap my head around my situation.
This was bad, reallyfucking bad. I was pretty convinced as to where we were and who was holding us here, but I just had no idea how I could possibly get out of this and save an additional fourteen girls.
Peering around at the others, I thought I recognized quite a few from Harley Institute, most likely taken today during the fire.
The others, however, I had no idea. I wondered if any of them were the missing girls the guys had mentioned before I arrived?
Rachelle? Monica? There were more than I thought were missing.
“Casey?”
I spun around to see a small figure huddled in the back corner of my cell.
She was wearing a pair of dark leggings, a pretty mustard yellow blouse, and gold earrings.
Even in the dim light, I could make out smudges of ash on her dark cheek, and her braids were gathered into a neat bun near the top of her head.
She was one of the girls I recognized from school, and when I studied her face, I realized she was Rebecca Thompson, the head of the Social Committee and top of our class.
She was usually pretty quiet, but everyone in school knew who she was, because she had posters everywhere, begging students to support her ideas to help our school.
“Rebecca?” I crawled over to her, and she lunged at me, wrapping her arms around my neck, and started sobbing.
I sat beside her in that back corner, holding her as she cried onto my shoulder.
There was something about being around others who were scared and panicked that always gave me a sense of calm and control.
Whenever Nylah was having a meltdown over all the homework she had to do (because I swear, she signed up for the hardest AP classes), or when she was worried about an upcoming game, she came to me and I’d always talk her down.
It was how I could be there for her, and now, I’ll be there for these girls.
I’d never spoken to Rebecca, but that didn’t matter at this moment as we embraced each other for comfort.
“Wh-what do y-you think they’re going to do with us?” she stammered through her quiet sobs.
Honestly? I knew exactly what they were going to do with us, but I didn’t think she could handle that truth. So I just shrugged and muttered, “I don’t know, but we should all try to stick together as best we-”
A loud, echoing clang echoed down the black hall that led out of the open space.
At once, the girls in the other cells shrank into the back corners, huddled together, some crying harder than ever.
The girls with me just looked up with curiosity and confusion, however judging by the reactions of the others, I had a feeling that whoever was walking down that hallway wasn’t here to save us.
The other three sharing this prison with Rebecca and I all scuttled over, squeezing into our corner as the sounds of multiple footsteps came closer and closer until finally, several figures stepped out of the dark and into the free space.
And the son of a bitch leading them, was Elias Cartier.
He was dressed in a dark grey suit, his tie a silk navy and cream, and his shoes shiny and black.
His honey-brown hair was neatly combed back off his face, and a five o’clock shadow covered his chin.
His mossy green eyes scanned the girls in each cell, his expression holding none of the interest as he walked purposefully by, right to the end, where the other four and I were cowering together.
He halted before the bars separating us from him, and I’d never been so happy to be caged in my life. I’d buried my face into Rebecca’s neck, praying to God that he wasn’t looking for me, and let my now brown hair fall like a drape to conceal me further.
“Which one is she?” he snapped. I listened as another set of footsteps approached the bars.
“That one, with the dark brown hair in the back.” Hunter’s voice. I seethe silently, wishing I could fucking claw at his face!
“Why the fuck is she in with the others? Separate them!”
I could hear the metallic sound of keys, before the heavy clunk of a lock, and the squeaky swing of the door.
The girls around me all started to sob, and we held onto each other, as though this would stop anything.
Several of Elias’s men, sans masks, ripped the other girls away from me.
Two of them screamed, while Rebecca started sobbing even harder as they dragged them out, only to throw them into the next cell.
I stayed where I was in my corner, watching as the door locked me in again.
Elias looked at his phone, almost like he was more agitated and bored by the proceedings as the girls moved.
He really didn’t give a shit about any of them.
“He’s here?” he asked one of his security guards, glancing up from his phone.
“Being escorted down now.”
“Good.” Elias’s lips twisted into a smile that would make the Devil tremble. Seeing the sick satisfaction on his face almost had me heaving up my breakfast. “Keep the others away until I’m done with him. I’ve been waiting years for this…”
I sat there, my head resting against the cold concrete wall as even more footsteps echoed down the hall.
“Go,” Elias muttered, moving to stand in front of my cage.
“But… you said-” Hunter glanced at me, his expression dropping, and he looked confused.
“Did I fucking stutter?” Elias’s head whipped up, and Hunter stepped back.
“N-no, sorry. I just thought… you said I…” He looked at me again before mumbling, “You said I could keep her if I-”
“Plans changed.” Elias slid his phone into the pocket lining of his expensive suit jacket. “Get used to disappointment, kid. Now get the fuck out. You can have some of the other pussy later.”
This was a huge blow, apparently. Hunter’s fists clenched tight and I could tell he was seething, but he knew better than to say anything arguing against it.
Honestly? I couldn’t blame him. He was one person surrounded by four of Elias’s men, and staring into the deceptive handsome face of a demon in disguise.
He had no choice other than to just nod before casting me one last, hopeless, yearning glance, before he entered the pitch-black hall.
The others came closer, and soon, more men entered the room, but I didn't bother looking up. What’s the point?
It was just more of his men, all catering to this selfish piece of shit’s needs.
I dropped my gaze to the floor, letting my forehead rest against the wall, my hair falling over my shoulder to hide behind.
“Ah, Sheik.” Elias sounded positively gleeful, his voice making every hair on my arm stand on end. “So glad you and your boys could make it.”
“What do you want?” The newcomer’s voice was deep, like the rumble of an engine, and he was brash with Elias, like he really didn’t give a shit what he wanted to tell him.
Huh, weird… that’s a first . I figured everyone here either respected him or at least feared his power enough that there was some major ass-kissing going on, but this was new.
I peeked through my hair and realized he was a biker.
He was wearing a black cut, the shoulder patch revealing a blue dragon, amongst other patches.
He had “Pres” patched over the left chest pocket, but this guy looked more like someone who was wholly and utterly defeated, not someone who was revelling in their position.
He stood there, looking exhausted, shoulders slumped and, his messy dark hair had tons of grey peppering through it. Even the whisker on his chin was almost all grey. But his face was handsome, even with the deepening crow’s feet at the corners of his dark eyes.
Why does he look so familiar?
“Mind yourself!” Elias snapped at him. At once, the biker, Sheik or whatever his name was, grimaced and nodded, his head slightly bowed.
“We weren’t expecting a call from you, is all,” He managed to spit out between his teeth, and I had the impression that speaking to this man with any sort of courtesy was actually a physical challenge for him.
His fists flexed, relaxed, and flexed again.
I could practically feel the stress and hate rolling off of this man.
Holy shit… was Elias going to sell me to this crazy motherfucker?