Chapter 13 Fallon
Fallon
While I’m grateful that the masked assholes got their act together and brought me a bag of goodies to keep me occupied while I’m stuck in this room (it was the least they could do), I think my time spent alone is chipping away at my resolve.
I miss Quinn. I miss people in general – which is weird for me. Usually, I’m perfectly content to hole up in my room away from everyone and read, but that was within my control. I’m not in control now, despite my attempts at defiance. It’s bothering me more than I’d like to admit.
They almost had me yesterday when Thing One and Two came for a visit.
It was the first time I hadn’t felt interrogated and instead felt like they were just trying to get to know me, Fallon Helix the woman and not Fallon Helix the woman who has information they need.
Fucking Stockholm Syndrome. I refuse to fall for that bullshit, even if my thoughts of my captors aren’t always appropriate.
I’m deep in thought, still picking at the plate of biscuits and fruit they delivered to me this morning, when the door to my room swings open.
Speaking of masked assholes…
Looks like it’s Thing One’s turn to walk me. “Hey, Siren,” he says from the hall. “Care to take a walk with me?”
“Hey, Tiny Dick. Care to let me go home now?” I catch his narrow-eyed stare as I join him in the hall with a quiet laugh, but my smile fades quickly.
I’d hoped throwing an insult at him would remind my brain and my vagina that he’s the enemy.
Yeah, that didn’t work; the insult or the reminder.
We both know his dick is anything but tiny.
When he’d forced me to my knees that first day, putting me face to face with his crotch, I’d been unable to look away from the massive outline of his hard cock through his joggers.
He side-eyes me as we start our walk down the long hallway. “How are you?”
“Peachy.” I start doing lunges as we walk. God, I miss running. “You know, other than recovering from being waterboarded and sleep deprived for days. Oh, and still being held against my will in a room the size of a cell. I’m peachy.”
“You are such a little brat,” he says with a shake of his head.
“By how hard your dick gets when I am being a brat, I’d say it doesn’t bother you too much.”
“Been thinking about making my dick hard, Siren?”
I scoff, turning my head away so he doesn’t see the blush blooming across my cheeks. “In your dreams.”
He stops abruptly and pulls out his phone. There’s a bunch of red numbers flashing across the screen that I don’t understand, but whatever it means obviously bothers him.
“What the fuck?” he stabs at the screen angrily with his thumbs. “No! Shit.” He looks up at me. “Keep walking. I’ll be right back.” Then he sprints back the way we came and heads up the stairs.
I’d consider sneaking after him and trying to make my escape if I hadn’t already tried that a few days ago, and found the door at the top of the stairs locked, so I keep walking.
The layout of the halls are strange down here. There’s the main hall that runs past the room they’re keeping me in, but it forks off into three separate hallways that lead to what I can only assume are more torture rooms.
I get to the end of the main hall and start to turn back when I hear a fleshy smack.
I peer down the hall to my right, noticing a bright light on in one of the rooms. There’s another smack followed by muffled voices.
My feet are moving before I can think better of it, tiptoeing closer until I’m hiding right outside the open door.
“How many?” a familiar voice asks.
I peek my head around the doorframe, and my stomach clenches.
Two of my masked captors are standing over a bloodied man, their backs to me.
They have their newest victim tied to a chair, similar to how I was when they were interrogating me.
Only his face is so beaten that his eyes are nearly swollen shut.
He’s shirtless with dozens of cuts lining his torso; there’s so much blood coating him and the floor that it’s pooling around the drain.
They’ve obviously been at this for a while.
Thing Two lifts the knife, pressing it to a spot of skin that hasn’t yet felt the blade’s kiss. “How many do they expect on the next shipment?”
The guy whimpers. “I would tell you if I knew, I swear.”
The blade pushes in, and the man screams.
“When is the next shipment coming in?” Thing Dickbag asks.
The man heaves, trying to fight the pain. “I don’t know! Fuck! I swear I don’t know! I only work with Clay to handle the money.”
My ears perk. There’s the mention of my dad’s slimy associate again. If he’s the real reason that Cerberus believes I’m involved in any of this nonsense then I’m going to kill him myself.
“And when does Clay expect his new batch to arrive? He had to have told you when to be ready for the next shipment.”
The man shakes his head, a sob breaking loose. “I told you, I don’t deal with the shipments, and neither does Clay.”
“Lying will only bring you more pain,” Thing Two warns.
Clay isn’t the type of guy to hang around a shipyard anyway, even I know that. That preppy asshole wouldn’t be caught dead around the smell of fish unless he was in a five-star seafood restaurant. The thought gives me an idea.
“He doesn’t know about shipments because that’s not Clay’s area of expertise.”
My captors whirl at my interruption. I steel myself and step into the room.
“What are you doing here?” Dickbag grinds out.
I ignore him, keeping my eyes on the bloodied man. “Clay doesn’t lower himself to going to the shipyard, does he?”
Even though the man’s eyes are nearly swollen shut, they still flare with recognition when they land on me. “It’s you! M-Miss Helix.” He thrashes in the chair, trying to get loose. “Help me get out of here! Please!”
Yeah, sorry dude. I can’t even help myself at this point. Plus, if he is working with Clay, I’m not sure I’d even want to help him if I could.
Thing Two kicks his leg. “Answer her question.”
“N-no. He doesn’t like going there. He doesn’t want to get his hands dirty in that way. Too risky.”
I nod. “Sounds like Clay.” I can feel the heated gaze of both captors as I form my next question. “He’s more of a crowd pleaser. A people-person who likes to wine and dine. Does he take any meetings before he pulls you into the loop?”
Thing Two stares at me, and I see when the lightbulb goes off because his gray eyes widen. He gets where I’m going with this.
“Y-yeah. He, uh, he meets with this guy named O'Brian. I don’t know his first name, but Clay meets with him before anything goes down because he has connections that help cover our tracks or some shit.”
Dickbag and Thing Two exchange a look, then glance back at me.
“Damn, Poison.” Thing Two steps into my space, but I don’t move. I’m done being intimidated by him. “Maybe you’re more useful than you think.”
Fast footsteps echo behind me. “Siren? Where are – Oh.” Thing One comes up behind me. “Sorry,” he says to the others. “I was dealing with a crisis.” He takes my hand to pull me out of the room, but a different hand clamps on my shoulder, holding me in place.
“Wait.”
I glance up at the rune mask, those gray eyes churning with something like determination. In one swift move, he grips the bottom of his mask and pushes it up and off his head, sliding his hood down in the process and revealing himself to me.
All thoughts vanish as I stare up at his face – at his beautiful, maskless face.
I’ve seen him before. Well, through the screen of my computer I’ve seen him, when I was doing my research on Lunar Security for Helix Enterprises.
I remember staring at his profile picture for far too long to be appropriate.
Like in his picture, his ashy blonde hair is tousled from wearing his hood, the locks just the perfect length for me to run my fingers through if I dared.
He’s got that bad boy vibe to him like he did online, with his pierced eyebrow, those full pouty lips, and that come-near-me-and-I’ll-kill-you stare. He’s even more gorgeous in person.
My brows pull together. Well, this is unexpected. “You’re Declan Huxley,” I whisper.
Behind me, Thing One curses.
“God fucking damnit!” Dickbag roars. Bloody dude forgotten, he stomps forward, grips the back of my neck, and marches me out of the room and down the hall. “This is why we don’t let pets out of their cages. Fuck!”
Declan’s harsh laugh follows us as I’m escorted back to my room. Thing Dickbag tosses me inside, and just before he shuts the door, I catch Thing One staring back at me. He looks defeated with his shoulders slumped and his hands hanging loosely at his side.
Hours later, my mind is still whirling as I wait for them to decide what they want to do with me. Beats the fuck out of me why Declan would risk me figuring out who they are. I haven’t seen the other two’s faces yet, but it’s easy to guess now.
When my door swings open and my captor’s mask-less face appears, I know I’m right.
Akio Savage, Lunar Security’s tech genius, stares back at me, a crooked smile on his smooth, handsome face.
“Hey, Siren.” I blink back at him, shock rippling through me once more at the revelation of my captors’ identities.
He’s lost his hoodie, and in its place is a white t-shirt and a leather jacket to match his ripped black jeans.
Damn, so pretty. “What do you say you join us upstairs for dinner?”
I can’t stop staring at him. “Depends.”
He tilts his head. “On what?”
“If I’m allowed to use a fork.”
His smile grows. “I don’t know,” he sing-songs. “Are you planning on trying to stab me again?” He steps back, motioning for me to walk with him.
“Tempting. But I don’t think I’ll push my luck today.” After Declan’s reveal and my now undetermined fate.