His scream is blood curdling and guilt fires through me, but assholes like this don’t deserve to live, especially if it’s a me or him type situation. I have to end him.
Drawing on every last bit of my DeAngelis vibes, I raise the nozzle of the hose and watch as the spray of water slams over his face. He instantly starts choking on the water, blubbering, and trying to catch a breath around it, but I don’t stop, knowing damn well that given the chance, he sure as fuck would have tried the same thing on me. Hell, if they didn’t have orders from Giovanni to prepare me for a buyer, then I probably would have already suffered the same fate.
Holding the hose still burns my muscles, but I fight against it, my determination winning out as his blubbering and cries slowly begin to fade. His hands droop but just to be sure, I keep the hose aimed at his face a while longer. When I’m finally met with a loud silence, I remove the spray from the guard and watch as he drops to the ground beside his colleague.
The hose sags in my hands as I turn it off, and the loud motor finally falls silent. Fear pounds in my chest as I creep toward the two bodies, waiting for them to spring to life again. “Fucking hell,” I breathe. Two bodies in less than two minutes. The boys will be proud, assuming I ever see them again to tell the story … and assuming they’re still alive, but I have to believe they are. They’re my only hope of survival.
Not knowing what’s going on upstairs, or if there’s even anybody up there, I pat my hands over the guards’ bodies until I finally find what I’m looking for. My fingers curl around the handle of a knife, and I tear it from its holster before cringing. The blade slices through the drowned man’s throat and blood spills like a waterfall over his chest, but I can’t take the chance that he will survive this.
Then grabbing the blood-soaked key, I turn toward the other cells, determined to get us all out of here alive.
5
The cell door squeals as I slide it open. “Come on,” I rush out, staring at the woman who’s been locked down here for what looks like months, her hair matted and clothes falling off her boney frame. “We have to get out of here. Hurry up.”
She gapes at me, furiously shaking her head and she bounds to her feet and grips the metal door. She yanks on it hard until the heavy metal slams shut with a loud, echoing BANG. “Get out of here, girl,” she spits, terror in her eyes. “Giovanni will have your head for this.”
My brows crease as I stare back at her, trying to pull the door free again. “What the hell is wrong with you? We have to go now.”
“NO,” she roars at me, spittle hitting my face. “I’d rather die in this cell than be on the run from those bastards again. Do you have any idea what that was like? They leave me alone down here. Just GO. LEAVE ME BE.”
Fucking hell.
My lips press into a hard line and for a brief moment, I consider knocking the woman out and dragging her by the hair, but what good would that do me? If there are more men upstairs, I’ll be fucked and so would she. There’s just no helping people who don’t want to be helped.
The other two women though … I’d seen their bodies in the strained light, heard soft mumblings over the past few days, yet at some point, they’d slowly faded away, leaving this world without me even knowing.
Against my better judgment, I turn to the stairs and let out a heavy breath while clutching the knife tightly in my hand. I don’t know what I’m about to find up there, but now is my only shot, assuming those cameras up in the corner of the cells actually work.
My knees shake and I take my first step up, fearing for absolutely everything. My sanity. My life. Hell, even the woman left down here behind me, though it didn’t escape my notice that she never threw away the key dangling from the lock.
Reaching the top step, I pause as my hand curls around the door handle.
Here goes nothing. It’s either die fighting, or be sold to some arrogant bastard who, no doubt, will make me beg for the sweet release of death.
Turning the handle, I push the door open just a sliver and am smacked in the face with a wave of cool air conditioning before I peer out the small gap. I hear soft murmuring coming from an adjoining room and footsteps in the opposite direction. There’s a good chance that the murmuring is coming from a television, but there’s no way to be sure.
Letting out a shaky breath, I go for it.
The door creaks as I push it open, instantly giving me away. My heart leaps into the back of my throat and I dart toward the sound of the maybe-television. “How’d that little bitch taste?” Comes a laugh from a man sitting in an old dirty recliner.
His head tilts up and he meets my terrified stare immediately. His eyes go wide but his reaction time is far too slow as I reach him only a second later. I push back on the recliner and the chair instantly falls back, the man struggling to get out of it as I slam my hand down over his mouth and dig the sharp blade of the knife deep into his throat.
I press down harder over his mouth as my eyes flick between him and the big entrance of the living room, certain that our struggle is going to alert anyone else in the old, dingy house.
Blood pours from his open throat and he quickly suffocates on his own blood, his body relaxing under my hold. I don’t waste a second, gluing my back to the wall and creeping through the house, my heart hammering wildly in my chest while knowing the only reason I’m able to put these assholes to sleep is because I hold the element of surprise. Without that, I’m fucked.
“Yo, Ralph,” a voice hollers from the opposite room. There’s a short pause before a muttered curse flows through the air. “Ralph. Where the fuck are you at?”
The man pauses again before muttering to himself, clearly irritated with being ignored. “For fuck’s sake,” he says louder, dropping something on the counter with a loud clang before I hear him crossing through the kitchen.
The footfalls take him toward the living room where I’d just slaughtered his friend and my whole body tenses. “I’m fucking talking to—”
His words fall away before I hear an irritated, “fuck,” breathed through the room.
My gaze shifts toward the front door. It would only take a second to pull it open and sprint out into the hot desert, but without food and water for the past four days, and this asshole racing after me, I’ll only get so far before I’m dragged back with a vengeance.
I have to stay, and I have to make it count.
The man slowly makes his way around the house, and I hear his every step, taunting me like a sick promise to end my miserable life. “Where are you, pretty girl?” he questions, instantly knowing that it’s me up here and not any of Giovanni’s other prisoners. After all, no one has come down to check on us in days, he probably has no idea that the other two women are dead. Giovanni though … I get the distinct feeling that he would.
“Come out, come out wherever you are.”
A shiver trails down my spine and I clutch the knife a little tighter, sliding myself along the wall to get a better vantage point of the house. Listening carefully, I track his movements through the property and take note of exactly where he is and what direction he’s taking.
The footsteps fade away into the distance, and my heart pounds just a little harder, making my hands quiver at my sides.