It took another twenty minutes to get it to work, but eventually, he managed to use it to unlock the golden cuff that Titus had annoyingly remembered to lock around Cal’s ankle before he’d left.
The sylar watched him silently the entire time, sitting patiently at the head of the bed on the pillow he’d been sleeping on before Calix had begun this daring escape plan.
If he left the creature here, would Aodhan harm him out of anger?
Would Titus forget to feed it and starve it to death?
“You have to keep quiet,” Cal whispered before scooping the creature up. He couldn’t leave it behind, even if they didn’t do anything to harm it. He was the one who’d begged for it, after all. Taking care of it was his responsibility.
The door wasn’t locked, but then, he was pretty sure it never was. Still, he eased it open an inch and put his ear to the crack, listening for any signs of movement. He was just as careful as he stepped out and padded down the hallway toward the stairwell, pausing at the top to do the same, though no sounds came from below either.
Briefly, he glanced up at the ceiling. Their bedroom was on the third level. He’d never been invited up, but he knew that much. That put them far from the exits, with him in between. Seemed kind of stupid, and that wasn’t a word he would use to describe either of them…
“Whatever,” he mumbled under his breath. He could stand here and fret over all the potential possibilities, or he could try his luck while he still had the guts and the opportunity. He’d managed to get their guard down by going with them to the party and sleeping with them. This was his only chance.
The pink suit he'd worn had been covered in blood, lube, and come, so he’d been forced to remove it as soon as they’d gotten home. He’d been allowed to change back into the pajama set Titus had given him, but he stopped at the foot of the stairs, frowning down at his bare feet. Did he waste more time looking for shoes? There weren’t any by the front door…Better not.
The house was still quiet, his heart thrumming wildly in his chest, seemingly the loudest sound in the whole building as he walked toward the kitchen.
The back door would be a safer bet for certain. Trying to go out the front would be riskier since it was the obvious escape route. The stairs faced the front. If they heard any noise at all and came to investigate, they’d catch him at the front dooreasily. But the back exit was on the opposite side of the house, tucked into a corner.
As expected, the kitchen was dark when he reached it, the only light coming from the one outside. He made his way toward it, carefully twisting the top lock, and then the bottom before pausing with his hand on the knob.
This had been too easy.
What if they were out there?
He pressed his ear to the glass, the frilly black half curtain that was draped over the window scratching at his cheek. All he heard were the usual night sounds, crickets chirping and the occasional hoot or call of a bird. No voices, nothing to indicate they were out there lying in wait or having a drink or a smoke or whatever the fuck else two men could do after midnight in their backyard.
A sweeping dread overcame him anyway, causing his skin to prickle and sweat to dot his brow. He wiped it away and inhaled through his nose, counting down from four in an attempt to calm his nerves. It didn’t work. The fear only grew, this unsettling feeling that if he did this, he’d be making a terrible mistake.
Which was crazy.
Crazier than the fact he’d been kidnapped and sexually assaulted for weeks straight with no food and only enough water to keep him functioning properly to be fucked at the doctor’s whim. Then left to twiddle his thumbs for another couple of weeks, all to make him crave their touch.
Which had worked.
Earlier, getting a taste of what sex with Titus was like…
Cal wanted more.
But the “gift” they’d left him in that storage room had been his breaking point. They were killers and psychopaths, and Calix might not be average or a decent person himself, but hehad miles to go before he even had a hope of catching up to them.
If he stayed, he’d eventually be eaten alive.
He had to go now, while he still had the resolve to do so, and he was still willing to work on himself. They’d already convinced his body it needed them, and they were close to convincing his mind as well. Once that happened, he’d lose any chance of coming to terms with who he was on his own.
His whole life had been spent running.
He didn’t want that.
He wanted freedom.
Reminded of that fact, Calix gritted his teeth against the sensation and stubbornly turned the knob, pulling the door open wide enough for him to slip out.
The chilly night air bit his skin, a cool balm when his entire body felt like it was on fire. His bare feet contacted smooth stone, and he glanced down to find he was standing on a white marble walkway that trailed off to the right and led to a small patio, complete with a glass table and chairs.
Three.