Page 47 of Aftermath

"Elsewhere," Cam said flatly.

He didn’t particularly like these guys. Then again, he didn’t like many.

Thankfully, Gale opened the door to her office then, saving him fromchit-chat. There were few things worse than meaningless conversation.

"Come on in, guys." She smiled, flashing white teeth with lipstick traces.

As always, Cam sat down in the loveseat in the corner—where Austin usually sat with him—and he avoided getting close to anyone else. The office wasn’t very big, so it was a tight fit when seven, now six, other dudes crammed themselves in. Gale sat down in front of her desk, Tim and Sean occupied a small couch, Lance and Victor in two chairs, and Chase sat down on the floor by the door, even though there were a couple more chairs available.

To Cam's knowledge, only Tim and Sean, who'd been cellmates, had formed a bond much like Cam and Austin had—although he doubted theirs was more than friendship. Chase, for instance, had shared his cage with Victor, but there was no attachment of any kind.

"Last time, we talked about the two days at the end where you were left without food and water," Gale said, clasping her hands over her notepad. "Today I thought we could talk about your last night." Her gaze traveled to Cam, and she smiled gently. "Oh, that’s right. Austin isn't here." She then looked to Tim. "Why don’t you start? You and Austin managed to gain the upper hand."

Cam fiddled with his phone as Tim reluctantly recalled the events that ultimately led to their escape. Cam wasn’t really doing anything with that fucking phone, but he needed to keep his fingers occupied. He was forced to listen, and each man had different recollections of that night. Cam himself remembered the dread as he'd waited and hoped to see Austin alive.

Cam paced by the door to the cell, tears streaming down his cheeks, not that he really noticed. He was too busy trying to breathe.

He'd heard three shots ring out, and there had been commotion for several minutes after.

Did he even dare hope Austin was still alive?

"He better be." He wiped his damp cheek against his shoulder, cursing the cuffs behind his back. "He fucking better be."

A couple things didn’t add up. Firstly, Cam hadn't heard a single noise from the times others had been tortured, yet he could clearly hear something now. Secondly, the shots confused him since they were followed by thumps, shouts, and what appeared to be bumping into walls.

Cam hated how fucking desperate he was—that he was hanging on to a few odds and ends that could mean a struggle with a new outcome. 'Cause it could, couldn’t it? The fact that he could hear some kind of fight had to mean they were closer, that they weren’t in the torture room, right? And Cam couldn’t imagine Psycho "planning" the torture just outside the door on the first floor. Or wherever they were.

"Tim and Austin are fighting him—that has to be it," Sean said, though he didn’t sound very confident. "We can't die down here. They gotta fight him."

"Shut the fuck up!" Cam kicked the door. "Like it's their fucking responsibility? That's funny, dude—'cause I haven't seen you even try to put up a fight."

"Whoa, I didn’t mean—"

"Whatever," Cam spat out. "Just keep your mouth shut." His head was pounding; the guys practically taking bets on what was going on only made it worse. Fuck. He needed to see Austin now.

And maybe, just maybe, after going through hell for however long, someone was finally granting wishes. 'Cause a minute or so later, the door leading to the basement was shoved open and Cam heard the sounds of two people walking down. No one was thrown down, and it wasn’t just one person. Two. Two people. Cam fucking prayed it was Austin. And Tim.

He held his breath when whomever was on the outside fiddled with the lock on the door to the cell. Which Psycho only did after checking the hatch first.

Time froze for Cam as Austin appeared in the open doorway, sweaty, grimy, blood sliding down his bicep, and only wearing those torn sweatpants of his. Both men looked like death warmed over, and shock was written across their filthy features.

"Austin," Cam finally choked out.

Austin didn’t reply, but he did shuffle closer, his posture revealing he was in serious pain. When he reached Cam, he slid his arms around Cam's waist and dropped his forehead to his shoulder. Cam let out a shuddering breath, remaining quiet and barely breathing as Austin freed him of his cuffs.

"We did it."

"Christ." Cam threw his arms around Austin's neck, but he backed away immediately when Austin winced. "Your arm." He'd been shot. "Fuck, your arm, Austin."

"I'll survive," he replied with a small smile and touched their foreheads together.

More tears streamed down Cam's face, and he grinned through them.

Austin smiled back and winced as he brought up his hands to brush his thumbs under Cam's eyes.

Outside the cell, a few other men appeared, Tim having released them all.

"You really did it." Cam could barely believe it, much less let it settle inside him. "Where's…?"

---