32. Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
Lucy
My eyes opened groggily to blackness. My head spun in slow motion, as if I’d been deposited into the emptiness of space and was floating through dark nothingness.
A steady hum surrounded me, and a wave of motion sickness plowed through my system.
I gagged, but my mouth was so parched that I only choked.
I was laying on my back. That I could tell. With every ounce of strength I could muster, I reached my hand forward into the darkness. It connected with something only inches away from my face. I dragged it down, struggling to reach further.
Oh fuck no.
My pulse started beating faster despite the sluggishness that wreaked through my brain. Panic drilled deep into my core.
I’ve been buried alive.
That was the first clear thought that shot through my mind. And because I didn’t know what the hell else to do, I tried screaming. It came out scratchy and small, stuck in my dry throat. The noise seemed to be swallowed by the tight, enclosed space, deaf to any ears beside my own.
I gasped a shallow breath, claustrophobia that I didn’t know I had engulfing me. This was a nightmare. I had to be imagining it.
I pinched my eyes shut and popped them back open again, willing myself to wake up. It didn’t work. I was still there, trapped in darkness. I could hear my heartbeat pound in my ears, quickening rapidly. It was so fucking hot in here.
I wasn’t waking up from this nightmare, but I was starting to regain control over my limbs. They felt sore and heavy as I lifted my arm back up to the barrier I couldn’t see in front of me. I tried reaching up above my head but only found a few more inches of space before I hit another wall.
What the hell was this?
A flood of memory whooshed slowly into my woozy brain. Echelon Developments. My interview. Deana Laskin. I remembered drinking from the water bottle she’d handed me. There’d been other voices nearby as her office melted around me.
I must have been drugged.
As my mind started to clear and the darkness around me remained still, the terror sank in. I gulped for air, but it felt like the oxygen was depleting around me.
I tried to calm myself down, but reality was settling in and forcing panic through me. I started to hyperventilate. I needed more air. I was gonna die here.
I wrapped my fists against the wall in front of me. There wasn’t much space, but I pounded against it as hard as I could. Pain seared into my knuckles, but I didn’t stop. I lifted my feet and started kicking down at the same time. The space around me rocked.
I was in some kind of container. I used all my might to try and roll to the side, but the vessel wouldn’t tilt despite my efforts. I took another desperate breath of air.
Then I heard what sounded like a muffled yell from outside. Someone was here. I stilled, fear riddling up every nerve ending in my body.
A clicking sound pressed into the space, then another. A spear of light burst through my vision, then the wall in front of me opened. My eyes struggled to adjust to the bright fluorescence, but my lungs swallowed the onslaught of humid oxygen in a frenzy.
I curled myself into a sitting position and nearly retched as dizziness stirred my vision.
“Where…the fuck…am I?” I panted before dry-heaving again.
“Oof, don’t throw up,” a familiar, unwelcome voice said. “It’s much too early for something like that.” Fear pulsed again inside me, but this time with something else. Hatred. Fury.
I’d have recognized that voice anywhere, only because I’d replayed it so many times in my own head.
Don’t worry. We will. Just not tonight.
My eyes finally reconfigured themselves in the harsh, bright light.
Chase, formerly known as Chad, stood staring down at me.
His smug features twisted into a malicious grin.
It didn’t matter how nauseous I felt, or how my muscles ached.
Adrenaline coursed through my body as I shot up and lunged for him.
Within seconds, my arms were drawn back behind me in a tight, painful grip.
Chase let out a contemptuous laugh that made my skin crawl. “I told you this cunt was gonna be a feisty one. You never listen to me.”
“Let me go!” I screamed, this time my voice had some velocity in the cold, open space.
A zipping sound split through the air, and my wrists were trussed together in a rigid vise. I jerked my head back to see who was holding me back, catching a glimpse of a cowboy hat, but my vision homed in on the face beneath it.
Deana Laskin, CEO of Echelon Developments.
Go figure. I knew there was something wrong with that bitch the moment I got onto that elevator with her. I should have trusted my instincts.
I jerked against her grip, letting out another blood-curdling scream. A hand slapped across my mouth and I revolted against it. Long, pointy fingernails dug into the hollows of my cheeks. I thrust myself forward, but my legs were wobbly, still standing in the…ice chest?
They’d locked me in a fucking ice chest. I tried to rake my hands forward, but the zip tie sank deep into my wrists with the effort. I snarled against Deana’s hand. My heart thudded against my chest.
“I don’t want her wasting her voice before the stream. Gag her.” The bitch’s voice was pure venom.
Chase snickered and pulled something hanging from a bar next to him.
It wasn’t until that moment I took in my surroundings.
We were in some kind of cell, enclosed with iron bars like a cage around us.
I cranked my neck back and noticed a black brick wall behind me.
Chase reached in front of me, something in his hand.
No!
My eyes registered the ball gag in his hand, and I made another attempt at screaming, my dry tongue brushing against the leathery skin of Deana’s palm.
A hot, rogue tear slid out the corner of my eye. I was going to die. This was it. In some hot, filthy cell, God knows where, alone with Chase and the crazy bitch who I’d just figured out was fucking Wrangler.
What kind of woman did the kinds of things she did to other women? What could she possibly get out of something like this?
Chase eyed me with contempt. “Can’t we just put her under for a little longer?” I wanted to kill him. If, God willing, I was somehow able to get out of this nightmare, it would be the first thing I did. I glared back at him.
“No. We’re killing her tonight, and then we’ll need to relocate for a while. I don’t want to take any chances of her friends at CIPHER tracking this place down, but I want to take care of her first.” Deana pushed my neck forward as Chase looped the gag around the back of my head.
I tried to struggle against them to no avail, my weak muscles throbbing with every movement.
Finally, Deana’s fingers released my face just in time for Chase to loop the strap around the back of my head.
I jostled against it, screaming again with all my might.
Deana’s sharp fingers found the corners of my mouth again and the noise became distorted as she pried my mouth open and he slid the ball in place.
I gargled against it, blood rushing into my ears like a stream of molten rage.
Chase backed away and Deana’s hand released my face again.
I immediately swung around, and even though my hands were locked together, I did the only thing I could think of.
I lifted my leg from the foot of the ice chest and kicked her square in the shin, scrambling out of the container as she stumbled backward.
Her brown eyes widened in surprise, then her lips twisted into a vicious sneer. “Mark my words, you little bitch, you’ll be paying for that very soon.”
I lunged for her again, but my weak muscles didn’t move as fast as my mind, and she jumped out of the way with a maniacal laugh. I tried yanking my wrists apart but only felt the sharp plastic sink deeper into my skin. Fuck, that hurt.
My dry throat ached as I choked against the gag, more angry tears forming in my eyes and dripping down my cheeks.
I watched Chase snap the lid of the ice chest closed, dragging it toward the caged exit of the cell.
Deana followed him without a backward glance, shutting the metal bars closed with an echoing rattle.
I sank to the floor, my vision blurred by tears but unable to wipe them away with my hands restrained. That was how I stayed for several minutes, an unholy trinity of rage, hopelessness, and fear shaking through my sore limbs.
Eventually, I stopped crying and numbness replaced the pain as I came to terms with what would happen to me.
I was gonna die alone in this damp cell, likely in some excruciating manner, publicly exposed to the dastardliest minds on the dark web.
When the tears dried and my vision finally cleared, I finally stood back up.
This was when I realized I was not, in fact, alone.
I could barely see a few feet into the darkness outside my enclosure, but a stocky man with a pockmarked face and a large rifle stood outside the bars.
His face was impassive, but his eyes were locked on me.
Next to my iron-clad enclosure was another one, and inside it was a frail-looking woman in tattered clothing with pale blonde hair.
Her skin looked like it had been clawed apart by a rabid animal, deep scratches and dried blood caked to her skin. She stared at me with wide blue eyes.
Recognition sparked to the forefront of my pounding head.