Page 6 of Cruel (Brutal Academy)

Hunter wasn't a fan of their music, but I secretly liked it. Or not so secretly, but I didn't flaunt it. I loved my twin, but he was always jealous of Zeke and his musical ability. Me, I long ago accepted the fact I had none, and happily left it to those who did. I had talent in other areas. My cock was probably bigger than Zeke's anyway.

"No, I'm lying on a beach in the Bahamas," Hunter said sarcastically. "That pounding in your head is because you drank too many cocktails by the pool last night."

"I wish. We should do that when we get out of here. I hear there's a nice little resort in—" I stopped as the sound of an approaching truck rattled the walls around us.

"I don't suppose someone is coming to…"

The truck rattled closer before roaring past, tyres crunching on gravel. It sent up a spray against the metal side of the building.

The sound of the big engine gradually faded away and disappeared.

"I'm guessing that would be no." I scrunched up my face and shook my head, trying to clear the last of the fog from my brain. I was getting really tired of being drugged. Everything hurt, but at least we were alive. More or less.

The chain left enough slack for me to sit up, albeit awkwardly, since my ankles were duct taped together.

"I can probably pull off your tape." Hunter's feet were right in front of my face.

Normally I’d complain about the smell, but there was a slight chance I didn't smell much better. Besides which, I was grateful they hadn't killed either of us yet. Nothing would suck more than lying here next to my twin's body. Except lying beside Lila's. Honestly, I wouldn't be too happy if it was Slade either. A guy couldn't help admiring his dedication to our girlfriend. That was something all three of us shared.

I started to tease the corner of the tape away and tugged it bit by bit, unwinding it until Hunter's ankles were free.

He groaned and shook them out.

"They were dedicated." I tossed the tape aside. "That was around four times. I personally only wind it three."

"Looks like you need to up your duct tape game," Hunter remarked.

I snorted a laugh. If nothing else would get us through, humour would. "I'd hate to have a duct tape game inferior to these assholes. I can't decide if I'm offended or not."

"Save your energy," Hunter suggested. "Move your ankles over here."

I shifted over and lay still while he worked the duct tape off from around my ankles.

"You know, you're right. This is some next level tape work. It's almost like they knew what they were doing."

"You don't need to sound like you admire them quite so much." I pretended to pout. "They aren'tthatgood."

He chuckled. "No, they're motherfuckers. Soon to be dead motherfuckers."

Blood rushed into my feet, both painful and a relief at the same time. Who knew how long they'd been like that? Too long. I rolled my ankles and waved them around in the air for a while, reducing the stiffness.

"Thanks, bro."

"Any time, bro." He threw the tape aside and sat up. "Given these guys are assholes, they don't seem to be idiots; they're going to have some idea when the drugs wear off."

"Are you suggesting we need to get the fuck out of here?" I asked, fully knowing the answer.

"Yes, Parker, I am," he replied.

"Hunter, I think that's an excellent idea." I glanced down at my wrists. The handcuffs were the same ones that were on there the last time I was awake. We already knew they weren't coming off, not without a fight. Or a key.

That left the other end. The chains were attached to the wall by a bolt, but the wall looked less than sturdy.

Perfect.

I placed my feet against the base of the wall, raised my hands in front of me and pulled.

The wall groaned and buckled slightly.

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