Page 60 of After Our Kiss

- Chapter Twenty-One -

Georgia Mary King

––––––––

Ilistened to his plan with budding excitement.

There was no part of me that wanted anyone dead, but if there was a future in which we could save Conway's sisterandkeep me out of Facile's hands, I was eager for it.

We lay there, just talking, long into the night. We weren't even naked and yet it was beyond intimate. He made it easy to feel comfortable. Safe.

Clearing my throat, I rolled on my side. “I'm going to grab a glass of water.”

He grunted, eyes shut.

Chuckling, I ran my hand over his broad back. He was gorgeous lying there—a dragon that rested. My dragon.

On bare feet I padded across the hall. It was dark, and I wasn't used to this part of the house. Two turns in, and I lost my sense of direction. “Dammit,” I mumbled. Clouds hid the stars outside the boarded up windows.

Then I was deeper, and knew I was really lost.

My foot came down, the wood creaking. It was such a sharp noise that my heart skipped.Calm down, don't spook yourself.I got two more steps when a new sound hit my ears.

It was low, full of pain and dread. It floated between the studs in the wall. I pressed my ear there, focusing so hard that my vision went wobbly. It was just like the sounds I'd heard while being assaulted by the videos’ audio day in and day out. I'd thought I was losing my mind.

Had those moans beenreal?

Standing, I searched the room. There wasn't any obvious door that I could see. A set of curtains draped across what looked like a boarded up window. Except this part of the house wasn't attached to the outer walls. There wouldn't be any windows.

Pushing the cloth aside, I saw that the boards were nailed ontopof a door. It swung open when I nudged it; I heard the frail cry again. Sensing the urgency in their tone, I walked through, then half-crept, half-jogged down the passage. Where did this go? I didn't know what part of the house this even was—I strained to see.

“Hello?” I whispered, my neck hairs standing on end.

There was another door, and though it had a lock, it was partially open. Light shone through and spread over the floorboards and more of that faded bird wallpaper. I was shaking as I swung it the rest of the way.

Inside that room was a true nightmare.

Six beds were lined up, three to a wall, in a space barely bigger than my own. The walls were covered in padding—hastily stuck there by duct tape and nails. It was an amateur job, but it had done its purpose. It kept the noise muffled so it could hardly escape. And when I saw what was in the beds, my horror only grew.

Six women. Black straps held their limbs to the bed frames, blindfolds covering half of their face. They'd all been gagged, robbed of their senses... except for one. Furthest from the door, she'd managed to maneuver her gag out of her mouth a fraction. Just enough to call for help.

“Save me,” she groaned.

“Oh my god,” I cried, rushing to her side. “Are you okay? Who did this to you?” Unsure where to begin, or what to do, I started to yank at her straps. This scene was blowing my mind.

“This is a problem,” someone said behind me.

Needle-sharp terror rolled up my body. I began to turn; pain burst outward from the base of my skull.

Everything went black.

---