Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
There was a shout and sudden activity. Metal doors banged open, a metallic hum sounded, and the main aisle flooded with light. A new body filled the doorway and I flinched, then perked up when I recognized him. “Laurent?”
“Yeah, chere.” The relaxed drawl of his Cajun dialect … it made me want to cry. He came to find me too.
Laurent moved aside as two more men shouldered in. The three of them blocked the light from the hall and I had to squint to see their features in the dark. At the sight of Rick and Lance’s pinched and concerned faces, I could no longer hold in the emotion. The pain, the exhaustion, the fear … the relief of it all broke a dam in my heart. I lowered my forehead to Dario’s chest and started to cry.
THE PRISONER
She swung open the door of the fourth cell, meeting the wary eyes of the blonde. The girl wasn’t chained, her shackles removed months ago in exchange for her obedience. It was a shame. Given a little more time, she might have become something worthy. Instead, she’d be the ticket to Claudia’s escape.
The blonde’s gaze flicked to Claudia’s shaved head, her eyes widening at the fresh haircut.
Claudia stepped inside and pointed the Taser. “Let’s go.”
The box had been installed first, the six-foot square cavity dug into the ground for the purpose of holding the fireproof box. An air pipe left the box and ran a quarter mile east, then came to the surface on the edge of a field. The warehouse had been built on top of the box, the entrance concealed in the concrete stairwell that led up to the second-floor office. Inside the box was a feed into the security cams and enough bottled water and provisions to support someone for several weeks, assuming they could deal with the boredom and the smell of their own excrement.
Robert’s plan had always been simple. If the warehouse was discovered, if a threat came on property that was too big to overcome—get in the box and blow the place apart. Escape later, once the attention dies down.
The plan had always sucked, though she hadn’t voiced that opinion to him. Now, she shoved the girl forward along the hall, out of the view of the other cells.
Entering the stairwell, she nodded toward the open hole in the ground, the box’s interior dark, the blinking red lights of the security system giving an occasional blood-red peek. “Jump in.” The girl hesitated and she pressed the Taser into her shoulder. “GO. Don’t make me hurt you.”
Back in the cell, she stripped off the T-shirt, then grabbed fistfuls of mud and rubbed it over her breasts and along her arms and the front of her jeans. She’d changed shortly after arriving and securing Bell Hartley. She’d washed off the clown makeup and ditched the Realtor costume, leaving the blonde wig on just in case. Just in case had been a good precaution, and the ratty jeans now worked well for her cause. She ran her dirty hands over her face and her shaved head, taking the oldest cell in the back and locking the ankle restraints into place. Her hands… she hesitated, and then left them free.
It had been four years since Robert first shackled her and Tanaka up in this exact same cell. Claudia had pulled at her restraints for weeks. Every girl in that place had only had one form of restraints, their wrists or ankles. She hadn’t understood why, out of everyone there, he’d used both arm and leg restraints on her. When she’d earned her way out of the leg restraints, she’d cried. The arm restraints had taken so much longer. Tanaka had died before Claudia had been able to leave her place by the wall and move around freely, without the iron weight dragging her hands down.
Over three years had passed since her shackles had been removed, and she still couldn’t have anything around her wrists. A bracelet, a watch, even a hairband caused her chest to tighten and her panic to swell. Now, she tested each ankles shackle, making sure they were convincingly secure. From a distance, one of the women called out, the sound echoing along the warehouse. Taking a deep breath, Claudia slid down the wall, her tailbone knocking painfully against the concrete floor, and brought her knees to her chest. They must be inside. They were probably creeping slowly through the building. Looking for her.
It was to her benefit that she’d spent those two days running from Robert. Skipping meals, torturing herself with guilt. In just days, her cheeks had thinned, her belly distended. Her muscles, developed from several years of strenuous workouts, had wilted.
She looked like death. Had felt like it. Earlier, when she’d lifted Bell Hartley over her shoulder to carry her out of the house, she’d struggled, the weight almost too much for her.