CHAPTER TWENTY

MIRI

It's quiet.

Finally, it's quiet.

I don't know what time it is, or if it's been more than a night, but the small reprieve from the sounds of torture is a win. I need to take anything I can as a sign of hope.

There's a bag of crisps just outside the gate, so someone must have visited me while I slept. Funny, I didn't think I'd be able to sleep in here. Exhaustion must have pulled me down. And now the idea of that brute delivering me food and watching over me when I wasn't aware of him gives me the chills. Is he the one making the girls scream?

Maybe it was Shaw.

My subconscious drops that one into my mind, and I try to slap away the little glimmer that comes with the thought he might be back. He's a monster. And I'm a fool. But he's also the only possible way out if he does show up again. We have a connection, I'm not too stubborn to admit that, and if he sees more of me as a person – the girl outside of the cage – then there's a bigger chance he won't go through with whatever plan they have for me.

I sit up and try to stretch some of the aches out of my body. The fight with Shaw and the uncomfortable ground has left me sore. If I have to fight again, I'm going to be slow and clumsy.

My feet brush over the dirt and grit on the floor, looking for anything I can try to use to pick the lock. My dare with Shaw got me so far, but he said the door was guarded. Which means I"d probably just be dragged back.

The circles of questions in my mind make me dizzy, and I snatch the bag of crisps through the bars to sit down and eat. At least the salt tastes good.

Over the crunch and crack of the crisps, the low cry of someone starts up again. It's a desolate and sad sound that only reinforces the shit position we're all in. Naja said she wanted me to be safe. I'm sure she couldn't foresee the events that have unfolded since she left me, and I wonder if it was worth it for her because, from where I am, it hasn't been.

I lick my fingers and wipe at the inside of the packet, getting every last spec of salt before leaving it on the floor.

The noises and screams begin again, growing louder and louder, with random interludes that form their own kind of torture as I wait to hear what's next.

Time continues to pass with the haunting noises of this place as the only company. Thirst and hunger start to cause me to worry, and I imagine what it would be like to be left here. It makes me want to get up and rage against the bars, yell and scream until someone comes. But I talk myself down and wait. They wouldn't have gone to all this trouble just to let me rot.

Telling myself that is maybe the only thing stopping me from going mad.

The sounds quieten, but they don't grow completely silent.

Finally, footsteps enter the pattern of noise, heavy ones that aren't even. I look around and watch as Shaw weaves his way from the shadow. Relief hits me first that it's not the woman or the big guy.

He looks tired. His head is down, and his shirt is skewed. He doesn't stop in front of the cage but walks past it, then turns, pacing back and forth. Neither of us say a word, and with every pass of the cage door, I grow more and more wary of what he's here to do. The sick feeling in my stomach grips my insides and twists – is this it? Has he come to do whatever they have planned? Kill me, sell me to some sick guy to keep me as a slave?

"Arghh!" He jumps forward and rattles the bars on the cage, making me step back in shock.

He starts pacing again and shaking his head.

"Shaw?" I ask, the fear strangling my voice. I cough to try and clear it. "Are we going to pick up where we left off last time?" I"m hoping to find that connection between us, but he still won't look at me. All I can see is guilt. "Shaw?"

"What?" He snaps, grabbing the bars and putting his face up against them. This time he looks at me, and I see anger in his tense jaw. It sits heavy there, morphing the face I first met. The faint marks I left from my nails when we fought still visible. I'm still not sure if it was from anger at him or myself for wanting him in some crazed fit of lust.

Well, fine. If he's going to act like a dick, I step further back into the cage and sit down. "What are you gonna do then? I've already had a visit from your trainer. She doesn't like me very much." I start talking at him, now pissed off. And scared. "What was the point of leaving me here? Trying to scare me some more? Another lesson in not to mess with you?" I keep on at him, and he turns away, back to pacing. "Just get on with it, Shaw!" I shout. My heart is pounding as I wait because that's what's crushing me in here. Waiting and not knowing.

He storms up to the cage again, but as he bangs on the bars, he starts to unlock them.

"What are you doing?" Panic swarms inside and starts to override me. "Shaw? Where am I going?"

He swings it open and stands back. Waiting. His head drops, like it was when he first came in here. I look around, snatching glances and waiting for someone else or something else to happen. Nothing does. Even the sounds of the other girls have slipped into silence.

"Just go. You're not meant to be here."

"Sorry?" I start, waiting for an explanation. "I don't understand." I stand up but stay inside.

He leans against the wall outside. "Neither do I. Just go."

"But …"

"Go!" he barks. "Don't make me regret doing this."

His voice sets me moving, creeping my feet forward until I'm outside and level with him. I look at him, but he keeps his eyes away. Is this a test? Am I going to walk into a wall of pain if I start to run? And if he's letting me go, why now? What's changed? I take a step and wait. Then another. My heart starts racing, and the adrenalin starts to kick in, urging me on, pushing me to move past the fear.

Another few steps, and I look back. He's still near the cage, now watching me, and I know this isn't a game. He's really doing this. So I move to run, starting off in the direction away from the quiet noises. My feet carry me, faster and faster, as panic sets in. I'm desperate in some wild way to reach an exit or get to freedom, blindly stumbling in the gloom until I reach a door.

I place my hands up against it and study the bolts running from floor to ceiling at the hinge. This is like a bunker door, the same as in the movies. It isn"t a movie, though.

My hands still as I grasp the handle. Why should I get to flee, and the rest of the girls have to endure the torture of whatever is next for them? Is Naja still here? They never answered that. What if she's one of the screams I've heard?

My conscience attacks me, paralysing my body from doing the only logical thing – opening the door to leave. Just run. That's all. And never look back.

Something is stopping me, though. Something is holding me back, and I can't do it. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I become bereft at what to do next.

Footsteps.

Faint, but there.

What if I've wasted my only chance?

I dash the barely shed tears away and will my arms into action, turning the handle on the door. It creeks, but moves, and the door cracks, letting in a shard of dull light.

As I push the door, more light floods into the tunnel, but it looks dark outside.

"What are you doing? Go," he says from behind me.

I don't turn around; I stand, looking out into nothingness. "I can't."

"Fucking can. Move your feet. Go." He sounds cross, but I don't care. He's not going to kill me, so the fear inside no longer has a hold over me.

I pause, unsure about so much. "Where am I? What am I meant to do? You took my passport, my money. Where am I going?" My mind starts to race. How do I get out of here with no help?

"Not my problem."

I spin on him. "Yes, it is! And you know it. It's why I'm standing here and not dead on the ground."

He starts to pace again, passing in and out of the gloom surrounding this place. "I've done my bit. The rest is up to you. Do you even realise what I've done?"

His eyes are bloodshot, and now, in this light, I can see bruising over his face. Flashes of our first date hit me, of the confident, sexy guy that knocked down every defence I thought I had. But that shifts to the man who dumped me in an abandoned building and then forced himself on me. And finally, all I can see is the face I attacked and wanted to hate.

"Fuck you, Shaw. I'm as good as dead if I run, and you know it. Don't try to sell it any other way. You think you're doing the right thing by helping, well, help."

The words taste of stale coffee as I speak, their bitterness spilling over my tongue. I heave in a breath, suddenly full of the confidence, or maybe the realisation,that this is what it's come down to, and I have to stand up to him.

We both hold our ground, waiting.

And I feel a strange pull towards him, as if our actions here, now, more than anything before, are binding us together. My fate is literally in his hands, and he's offered me an escape. But making sure that chance turns into a reality is my goal.

"Shaw?" A deep male voice sounds from the direction we came from, still somewhere in the shadows.

I step back, away from the sound, and watch Shaw's eyes roll. His head drops back on his shoulders, shaking it. "Fucker." He frowns and looks at me. "Miri, listen. Go. Now. Or you won't have another chance." The tone's more pleading than I've ever heard from him. "Just go and don't turn back."

"The fuck is she doing out of her cage?" The voice grows as the shadow of a huge man emerges from the dark. He's dressed in a smart jacket and suit, not what I'd expect from the place we're in.

The fear I'd just gotten over shoots back with only a look from his cold, hard eyes. And Shaw moving, positioning himself between me and the man, intensifies that.

It's quiet for a few moments. No noise at all. I want to bolt at the eerie sensation creeping over me. It's like the beginning of a storm, one laced with doom.

"Haven't already taken enough of a beating," the big guy says. "You want more?"

"Well, you do keep telling me that's all I'm good for, Abel."

"Keep pulling shit like this, and you're proving me right. What's the plan? Run?" He moves a step closer and looks at me edging closer to the outside. "Where you going, little girl?"

I glance out the door to a deserted car park. There are no streetlights or roads I can make out from here. Could I run?

"Miri." There's a warning in Shaw's voice.

"I thought she was Eight."

"Screw you."

Abel lunges towards Shaw, bringing his arm up and smashing his fist down against his face. Shaw crumples under the force, and then he comes for me, striding towards me.

I widen my stance and take the weight into my feet as I get ready to fight. If Neil were here, what would he say? I don't wait to be hit. I jolt forward, fake with my left, and follow through with a jab to his jaw. It lands but feels like hitting concrete. My clenched fist throbs, but I keep on the offensive, hitting his sternum before shifting position. It doesn't come naturally, and the movement is tired and clumsy.

He smacks me across the side of the face in response, the force sending me straight into the wall. Pain explodes as I gather myself and suck in a breath, shaking my head to clear the stars. But before I can turn, he grabs my hair, yanks me to the floor, and kicks the door shut to bar my exit.

"You belong to us. You don't get to decide if you want to leave." I turn my face as I kneel on the ground. Shaw's standing up, and I can see he's pissed. "You don't get to decide anything." He drags me, heaving me back towards the cages, and my eyes turn from Shaw. "You trusted wrong. He hasn't got the balls. Too fucking weak."

Sudden force slams into Abel, sending both me and him tumbling. I lurch on the ground and watch as Shaw lands a punch square on Abel's jaw. It barely registers on his face, and Abel returns with a heavier punch, knocking Shaw off balance.

I stand, panicked by everything, and go back to the door to lever it open again, but my attention is pulled back to check on Shaw. He's grappling still, but it's clear he's on the wrong end of the fight. He's taking a severe beating on the floor as Abel looms over him and kicks him in the ribs.

A few more of those and he'll break all of the bones on that side, but he seems more interested in pressing his knee into his chest, squeezing off his oxygen.

He's going to kill him.

I look back toward my door to freedom, and then my eyes fix on Shaw, struggling on the ground.

Why am I hesitating?

The question rings loud in my mind, but I know the answer.

If Shaw dies, I'm dead.

At least with him alive and on my side, there's a chance. A slim, barely there one, but a chance. It will be complicated and messy, and I might have to question my sanity for running with this, but I need to take any sign of hope and go with it.

My feet push off, and I pounce on Abel's back, pulling my elbow around his neck to put him in a chokehold. He pulls up, releasing his weight on Shaw and stumbles back. I keep my balance and hold on to him, but he shifts his weight and slams me back against a wall before somehow grabbing hold of me and tossing me to the ground.

I hit hard, rolling and wheezing from the impact.

But as I look over, Shaw's standing, pointing a gun at Abel.

Abel laughs. He fucking laughs. "What are you going to do, Shaw? Shoot me?" Abel doesn't even sound threatened, like having a gun pointed at his head is something that happens every day. "Put the damn thing down and get the girl. I"m done with this bullshit. You don't have the spine for anything else."

Shaw's arm is held straight, the gun tracking at Abel's head. He glances down at me for a second before he shifts his arm to the side and pulls the trigger. The shot of the gun makes me jump, hands going to my mouth, and I watch the grimace from Abel as he drops his knee to the ground.

Shaw walks over to him and smiles. "Didn't see that fucker coming, did ya?" He raises his hand and drops it hard,smacking the butt of the gun over Abel's head.

I look up at Shaw, who's still looking down at a now passed-out Abel, and rub my hands down my jeans. "Does this mean you're going to help me now?" He breathes heavily, like he's transfixed in his own moment. "Shaw?"

His head whips round to look at me. "What?"

"Are you helping me?"

He pushes the gun into the back of his waistband and gets the door, opening it again. "Doesn't look like I've got a choice anymore." He moves out into the night, not looking back at me or anything else, and heads for a car.

"Who is he, anyway?" I call, trying to keep up. No answer. "Shaw?" He keeps moving until he's at the car, swiping his head of blood and opening the door. "Shaw?"

"He's my eldest brother. You gonna get in the fucking car or not?"