Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
EMMETT
My eyes bat open and immediately I notice two things.
1. My head hurts like a fucking bitch.
2. I'm in a basement.
Where ? Well , I’d like to fucking know, too.
My eyes strain, adjusting to the darkness of the room. Besides the faint glow from a flashing bulb hanging from the ceiling, the room is plunged in darkness and covered in shadows. I attempt to stand when my arm is yanked back.
Motherfucker .
That’s really fucking inconvenient.
Looking down at my right arm, a cuff is secured to my wrist and connected to a chain that’s embedded into the damn wall. You have got to be fucking kidding me.
There is a metal slab on the wall with a single loop attached to it. Connected to the metal hook are thick iron rings that make up the chain currently securing me in place to this goddamn wall . I grab the hook on the wall to test its strength when my fingers are met with wetness. Huh .
I drag my gaze upward to the droplets of water that are forming on the ceiling and running down the wall to the chain. Water splatters against the metal, dripping down on it. The metallic smell fills my nostrils. It omits a blood-like smell, but I assume it's the oxidized chain from the leaking liquid and not actual blood that has stained the floors of this cinderblock room.
“ Fuck .” I grunt while standing up. Pacing along the wall, I go as far as the chains will allow. Panic begins to enter my bloodstream at the reminder that someone has my little obsession. Someone has my girl and terrifying thoughts flood my mind with the dangers she could potentially be faced with if I don’t find her as soon as possible. Running my hand through my hair, for the second time in my life I feel fear.
Absolute fucking fear.
The first and only time I experienced fear was as a helpless child who couldn't protect his mother or himself because of a lack of knowledge. Lack of strength. The only difference now is that I can't protect her because they’re afraid of me. Good , they fucking should be. Each and every person involved will meet their maker at the hands of me and only me.
“ Fuck . Fuck ! Fuck ! FUCK !” I slam my fist against the cinderblock wall that’s housing the chain, keeping me away from my little obsession.
The solid cement against my knuckles sends a shooting pain up my arm but I don't care. I need to feel it. In fact, I welcome it. The physical ache is nothing compared to the feeling of my soul being ripped into a million pieces. The splintering segments of my heart impale themselves into me and remind me of the fact that I failed her. I failed to keep her safe. I punch again and again, harder each time, making my knuckles split back open. My blood splatters against the wall.
The sign of a crack has me pausing before I break my hand against the wall. My breathing comes in heavy pants as my eyes narrow at the surrounding material of the iron slab holding the hook, keeping me chained here.
A small laugh escapes me. A crack has started to form around the hook, knocking it loose. It appears as if the leak over time has caused the metal to rust and weaken while it was also loosened by those who have previously yanked on the restraint.
“ Fuck this.” I grab the chain and begin wrapping it around my hands, giving myself a better grip. I place a foot on the wall and pull as hard as I can, feeling my limbs and muscles practically shred with the movement.
I continue yanking on the chain until it loosens some more, causing the cracks to spread outward like a shattered mirror. With the chain almost out of place, I pick up my foot and kick with the remaining strength I have contained in my body. I don't care if I injure myself. I don't care if my bones break.
I will use my fucking teeth to crawl my way to her if I have to.
My grunts fill the room and a bead of sweat starts to form along my hairline. I lift my foot once more and smash downward on the protruding hook. The sound of snapping and clinking metal fills the air as the piece of cement crumbles, freeing the hook.
Panting as I intake air, my lip tips up as a sense of relief washes over me. Now I just have to figure out how to get out of this fucking room.
As if my thoughts had conjured my captor, the sound of heavy footfalls echoes through the hall on the opposite side of the door, alerting me that someone is heading towards me.
I didn't realize how loud I was but I'm sure my grunts and roars notified them of my consciousness. I grab the chain so it doesn't drag along the floor and hide behind the door. The minute that fucker walks in he’ll be sorry. Sorry that he kept me from what's mine .
The door swings open, effectively shielding me from his gaze as his bulky frame enters the room. I watch from the shadows, preparing to attack. He may be similar in size but he doesn't have the same wrath that's bubbling just beneath the surface. “ Where the fuck did you go, you little shit?” He spits out, scratching the side of his beard.
I take a step forward, lining his back with my front, and quickly toss the chain over his head and around his neck. Taking part of the link and wrapping it around his neck again. Luckily the element of surprise is on my side, giving me a split second to wrap and pull on the chain. He stumbles back against my chest as my grip tightens on the links.
He chokes and the sound is music to my ears. The guard grabs the chain and attempts to pull it away from his throat, allowing the tiniest bit of oxygen to sift through. “ Nighty night,” I growl into his ear, pulling them tighter. His face morphs from a bright red while he jerks in my hold, to a calming blue. The change makes my heart skip a beat. The warm sensation that fills my body knowing there’s one less person keeping me from Blair gives me a renewed motivation .
My arms strain with the force it takes for me to snuff the life out of his useless body. When he finally stops struggling, I release my grip around his throat and let him drop to the ground with a heavy thud. If he wasn't already dead, the impact of his skull hitting the ground and splitting open would have gotten the job done.
Feeling his pockets, the sounds of clinking keys reverberates and the cold metal hits my fingers. I reach inside and pull out the keychain. I sift through them, trying each one until the cuff around my wrist unlocks.
Looking down at him, an idea forms in my mind. Noticing the similarities in our builds, I make quick work of removing his uniform before the blood from his cracked head ruins the material. I pull on the navy blue polo shirt and black combat pants. The hat he was wearing was discarded on the ground during our fight. I grab it and throw it on, shielding my face. Rubbing the raw skin where the chain was, I look around for a weapon. Surely , he had something on him.
Lying on the floor, a few feet from his lifeless body is the glint of a Glock . I reach down and pick it up, releasing the magazine and check that it’s fully loaded. Clicking the cartridge back into place, I switch off the safety and head out, ready for any other useless assholes who think they can keep Blair and me separated.
No soul in the world is guaranteed survival as long as my little obsession is out of my grasp, and even when she is back with me, anyone who tries to harm her or take her will die.
My chest tightens at the reminder that she’s somewhere unsafe. Surrounded by people who want to use and abuse her, the same way they did me .
As I exit the room, I look down the hall and spot another guard. I swiftly turn my back to him and head the other way when he calls “my” name.
“ Yo , Edgar .” He starts making his way towards me, “ What the fuck was he doing?” He questions. With my head slightly angled downward, the dumbass can’t tell that I am certainly not Edgar . Better for me, tragic for him. When he gets close enough, he finally uses his brain and realizes I'm not who he thinks I am. He reaches for his weapon but I'm moving before he can pull the gun out of the holster.
Raising my arm, I swing the butt of the gun against his temple. He stumbles back, momentarily dazed before regaining focus on the situation. He moves a hand up to his temple to touch the blood that has now started to drip down the side of his face. “ You fucking bastard,” he spits. He takes long strides, hopeful that he’ll reach me and come out of our little battle, victorious.
Maybe he would’ve if he wasn’t so fucking slow.
I raise my arm and shoot him between the eyes, the echo of the shot reverberating against the halls of the cement dungeon. Brain matter and skull fragments spray across my face and onto the surrounding walls. His eyes are still open yet void of the soul that once occupied his shell. The voice in my head gets louder as it chants.
Kill . Kill . KILL .
I reach down and pat his pockets, hoping he can be as useful as his buddy Edgar . There’s one number I know by heart that won’t ask questions and will effectively get me the fuck out of this mess. I lift his body and roll him onto his back, giving me access to search the front pockets. In his chest pocket, I find his phone and pull it out. The phone requires a face scan, good thing his lifeless eyes are still open.
Placing the phone in front of his face it unlocks and I quickly dial Grimm .
Grimm answers after the first ring. “ Hello ?”
“ Gri -” Before I can get out a word, I’m cut off by Grimm’s rough voice.
“ Where the fuck have you been? You call me to grab your dad and then disappear into thin air? What the hell is going on, E ?”
Three questions. Maybe he wasn’t the right person to call after all. “ Chained to a wall, I was kidnapped. No more questions, I’ll give you all the details later.” I respond, darting down the hall to find the nearest exit and instruct Grimm , my boots pounding against the floor as I jog.
“ I’m sending you my location, drop whatever or whoever you’re doing and come get me,” I demand.
I hear mumbling and shuffling in the background, and then Grimm’s voice comes through the line once more. “ That’s no way to talk to your lord and savior, E . I know where you live.” He chuckles.
There’s a thud resembling the closing of his car door and I’m about to end the call when he speaks. “ Looks like it’ll take thirty minutes to get there, I can cut it to fifteen. You can thank me by letting me chop some fuckers up.” He grumbles out, clearly not happy being told what to do.
The dial tone clicks as he ends the call.