Page 54 of Frat Row
I duck down and move toward the door. There is a small square window at the top, and I don’t want anyone to see me, already hoping that no one heard me.
I sigh, remembering there is a lock on every single one of these doors, and I don’t know the code.
Holding my breath, I try the handle. To my surprise, the handle moves down. My stomach is in my throat as the realization hits me—I could escape. This could actually happen, and I could get out of here.
Slowly opening the heavy door, I peek my head up and down the hall.
Empty.
I creep out of the room and turn right.
Walking turns into full-blown running, looking for an exit like a madwoman; I take turns left and right, weaving toward any door or staircase that could lead me out of this place, looking up for any kind of signs with arrows or words.
I see a guard up ahead, and I skid to a stop, rushing behind a divot in the wall and urging it to swallow me up. I cover my mouth to stifle my heavy breathing and wait a few moments before peeking my head out.
The hallway is clear, and I take off again, some of it looking familiar. I see a door about a hundred yards away, and it looks different compared to the other doors.
Trusting my gut, I sprint toward it, trying to stay on the balls of my feet to prevent noise.
As my hand touches the handle and I feel the coolness of the metal, a force knocks into my side, and my feet lift off the ground as I fly through the air, landing hard on the other side of my body on the tiled floor.
Rolling over, groaning in despair and agony, I hear footsteps approach me.
I open my eyes, and Rio is crouching down, smiling at me.
“I thought it would be fun to watch you try to escape, princess; it was very entertaining,” he taunts.
He grabs my chin, forcing me to look directly at him. “All that hope squashed and shoved right back down.”
Anger washes over me, and without thinking, I say, “You’re a piece of shit,” and I spit in his face.
Still smiling, he sluggishly wipes off his face. “I cannot wait for training today; we are going to have so much fun together. He moves to grab my arm, and I push my body in the opposite direction, sliding on the floor and trying to get away.
He chuckles. “I love it when you fight me; I get bored so easily these days.”
He snatches a handful of my hair close to my scalp and starts dragging me through the halls.
I desperately claw at his hands to try to get him to release my hair to stop the throbbing pain.
He is unbelievably strong, and with such little food provided to us, I feel weaker than ever. However, I don’t give up; my stubbornness won't let me show any kind of weakness to him.
We reach a steel door where he types in a code and walks us through; I am still thrashing as he throws me to the floor roughly.
I get my bearings and look around at where he has brought me.
This room is bigger than the others, huge.
There are multiple beds set up, with four tall metal poles in the corners, and two women sit propped up on each bed. One woman lies on the bed, hooked up to a metal spreader bar, with her legs stretched as far as they can go, and her ankles are in cuffs with links attached to the poles. Her hands are stretched back above her head into handcuffs attached to the upper poles.
A guard is stationed at each bed, standing beside it.
There is another bed with a woman hooked up to the spreader bar, without a guard, and I swear my stomach completely bottoms out, knowing what is coming. My feet automatically move in that direction.
Will scoffs at me, narrowing his gaze with an annoyed expression. “You’re late.”
Feeling depleted, I don’t even have a snarky comeback for him.
All my hopes of escaping this place have gone down the drain. To be so close to freedom and then have it taken away in the blink of an eye is depressing as hell.
