Page 50 of 23 Hours

KIT

The pain of a thousand spurs piercing my back sets my teeth on edge. I groan low in my chest as a violent chill rips through every cell. Palms flat on the cold, solid ground, grit embeds beneath my nails as I flex my fingers. Sharp pebbles imprint flesh. I blink to figure out where the hell I am—in nothing more than a sea of darkness. Inhaling deeply, mildew mixed with body odor and piss hits my nostrils like fresh skunk spray. Choking on the aroma, I blink twice more, but I still can’t see the damn thing. Water trickles nearby. A fusion of whimpers and subdued cries fill the air. Nearby, someone shrieks in agony—a woman.

“Do we know her?” a voice mutters from feet away.

I lie still, now realizing I’m not alone.

There’s shuffling.

An onslaught of whispers.

Alright… Focus. A man was at my apartment, right? He had dark eyes, I think.After that… I remember nothing.

“Please! No!” the shrieking female pleads. “Oh! God! Please! Stop!”

A different person cries quietly to herself. “Fu-ck. F-uck. Fuck,” she stammers in fragments.

“Are you awake?” a third woman asks, far calmer than the rest.

Not knowing what to do, I ignore the throbbing in my spine and pretend they don’t exist. I don’t know these people. I don’t know anything anymore.

A lone tear forms in the corner of my eye.

I ignore the traitorous bastard.

Nope. I’m not gonna cry. This is not the time for weakness. So what if I’ve been taken?

Shit.

Taken—like in that movie with Liam Neeson.

Is that what this is?

Wait.

What?

No.

I’m nobody.

I’m…

A masculine grumble carries forth, his footsteps godlike as they stop far too close for comfort.

“Please don’t come in. Please don’t come in,” a nearby female chants to herself.

The door to our space opens with a rusty whine, and a hulking silhouette fills the frame, the light behind him forming a halo around his head.

Lying deathly still to avoid detection, I hold my breath and shutter my eyelids just enough to watch the asshole shove a naked woman into the room. She stumbles on wobbly legs before collapsing in the middle of an area not much larger than a walk-in closet.

A moment later, he’s gone. Thethudof a lock engages in his wake.

“Kit,” the newbie rasps as we descend back into darkness.

It’s her. I’d recognize that voice anywhere… Gunz’s naked friend.

Dammit.

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