Part 22 (2/2)
Looking to Cilas, who stands rigid in front of us radiating with fury, I yank on Dee Dee's arm to get her to move into the room I had just thrown my bags in.
”Help me with her first,” I instruct Cilas.
With his large frame and brutal strength, he bends down, picks her up in his arms, and starts to carry her into my room like a child being gently cradled. Her crying has finally stopped, but her body is still shaking. Although Cilas is still one of many who wear the vest, even Dee Dee senses the safety of his guard.
After he walks her in and I follow, he lays her out on the bed. It's then I give her specific instructions. ”Stay here and don't leave. Don't open the door for anyone. Do you understand?”
Cilas quickly throws a blanket on top of her before she answers. Her body now appears weak as it comes down from its adrenaline rush.
”Yes,” she finally gets out before closing her eyes and wiping more tears.
I look up to Cilas. He nods to the door, so I follow him out.
”The bas.e.m.e.nt,” I repeat what she already told us, but it's because I'm shocked. ”What's that f.u.c.ker doin' in the bas.e.m.e.nt, and why does he have Anna?” I hadn't expected Cilas to answer, but was hoping for anything other than his continued impa.s.sive silence.
After following him through a series of twists and turns, we make our way to a set of stairs leading straight underground. For simplicity's sake, the only way to describe the bas.e.m.e.nt stairwell is as a castle's dungeon. Lights line the side of the cement walls. Cobwebs have been spun in and throughout every fixture. Cilas takes the stairs, two at a time, without fear. I'm more apprehensive, so I hang back and wait until he gets a few steps in front of me before I follow his lead.
The scream of terror coming from the room at the bottom suddenly hurries our pace. Once we turn the corner, my stomach lurches at the sight of what's happening in front of us.
Anna is tied up.
A brown, worn rope hangs from the ceiling, its knots holding her in place. Blood oozes down her bare back as Hangar, looking worn-out and tired from exertion, holds in his hand what looks to be a leather whip. Judging by their current state, he's been at her for a while.
Before Hangar is able to turn around, Cilas walks to him quietly and wraps his large arms completely around Hangar's lanky body, stopping him from any further movement. Hangar thrashes in his hold, screaming about making someone pay. My name comes toppling out of his mouth like poison meant to kill. Cilas subdues him without issue, and he finally drops the leather piece to the floor.
With Cilas dragging him back, they pa.s.s me standing in place. When they do, Cilas' body goes rigid. As Hangar stands in front of me, I watch as his eyes grow dark. To say he's not himself isn't an accurate description. It feels more as though this is Hangar, in his truest, most malevolent form. Cilas keeps hold of him tightly around the chest and waist, lifting him at least a foot off the floor.
Anna continues crying out in pain, but Hangar's words drown her out completely. ”I wanted it to hurt,” he says. ”I wanted her to feel the burn.” His feet start to drag, his body losing itself to fatigue, but he's not finished with his morbid explanation. ”It'll be the same for her,” he says, yet he's not making sense. ”Just as it was for yours. She was mine.”
Cilas has had enough. He nods in Anna's direction and carries Hangar out of the room while Hangar's feet continue dragging on the ground. I watch as he carries him to the door, but before walking through it, Cilas pa.s.ses the cement wall and Hangar's head hits it with a heavy thud. Cilas doesn't stop to check on him.
Turning to Anna, I take in the full sight of her. Her soft flesh is open and oozing for all to see. The cuts, abrasions, falling skin, and immediate bruising cannot be described. If my gut has ever twisted with gore, it's not been so obvious 'til now.
Rus.h.i.+ng to her side, I wrap my hand around her waist as carefully as I can to relieve the weight of her body hanging from the ropes. I'm unsure where to start dismantling her from her binds, so I reach up and start with one hand. I don't chance another look at her.
a.s.suming she doesn't know who's in the room, I speak quietly as I work. ”Sweetheart, it's me,” I say cautiously. ”Max.”
”Max,” she whispers, turning her head and giving me a full view of the extent of damage that's been done to her face.
My stomach ties in heavy knots as I take in everything Hangar's broken. One eye is completely shut, beaten and bloodied. Her cheek on the other side is so swollen it's lifting the lower lid of her eye. Her lip is split, and blood, even dried, sticks to her chin and neck. Anna's hair, which is usually a deep, dark brown, is caked with the thick of her own blood. Holding her still for just a moment, I allow myself a breath.
”Viktor,” she calls out in a whisper. ”Cilas,” she beckons next.
Still using a soft voice of my own, and being as careful as I can, I rea.s.sure, ”I'll get Viktor, but I need to get you out of here first, okay?”
She doesn't nod or answer.
”Are you with me?” I prod, hoping like f.u.c.k she's not about to lose consciousness. Until I get her down from the binds, it's better to know she's awake it tells me she's still alive.
Anna nods only slightly, so I reach to the strap of rope holding her wrists in place. Her fingers wrap around it and she's still using her strength to grasp it tightly, even after having the s.h.i.+t beat out of her.
I feel her body's violent shakes, so I stop to offer words of rea.s.surance that she's not alone. ”It's okay. Cilas came with me. He'll be back, and Hangar's gone.”
”Viktor,” she cries out again. ”He worries.”
”It's okay,” I soothe. ”I'll get him. Let me get you down.”
I work the strap of her left wrist first. Once it's released, she falls to her side and is left hanging mid-air by one arm. I work quickly to grab her small body and offer support to keep her standing. She cries out in pain when my chest brushes her open, bleeding, and raw back.
”Almost done, Anna. Stay with me, okay?”
”Yes,” she answers, visibly using all her strength to break out into another whisper.
The second knot is worse than the first. Her hand starts to lose color as I attempt to work it while trying to hold her without jarring her body and causing her more excruciating pain. I need help, but there's no one around and I'm running out of time before she's bound to black out.
”I've gotta grab something to help me with this,” I explain. ”I'm not leaving. I'll be right behind you. No one is coming in or going out of that door while I'm here, okay?”
Her shaky breath hitches before affirming she's heard me. ”Okay.”
Releasing her gently, I look around the room for anything I can use to help free her. I see a table with three bottles of unopened water and one bottle that's completely empty. A beat-up grey mattress is leaning against a wall in the corner. I close my eyes and wash away the thoughts of whatever Hangar had planned to do to her next.
Finally, I find a knife set to the side, clipped into a belt. Again, I'm a.s.suming this is Hangar's.
My urgency to free her triumphs over the immediate rage I feel in my desire to kill him.
”Listen to me, Anna,” I whisper into her ear, feeling her jump on contact. ”I'm going to get you down from here. When I do, I need you to fall against me. It'll hurt.” I stop to let her catch a breath. ”But do it and I'll get you out of here and back with Viktor.”
She doesn't answer as her head falls to the side. The blood dripping from her nose continues as she sucks in a shallow, ragged breath. She's a strong woman, and this is her only way of bracing for what's to come.
With a quick slice to the strap holding her, I maintain my composure as she drops against me in one fell swoop. The knife falls from my hand and I act quickly to ensure her now silent and still body doesn't hit the filthy floor beneath us.
Chapter Twenty-Six.
When I walk into the room where I left Dee Dee, she's exactly how I left her. The lights are on and she's lying on her back, covers draped up to her chin as she clutches them. She's awake staring at the ceiling.
After closing the door behind me, I use careful steps to move toward her. With my head swimming in sadness for all those affected tonight, I close my eyes and hope she remains calm. Before I can make it to her side, her head s.h.i.+fts and she looks at me with s.h.i.+ning eyes. She hasn't stopped crying.
”Hey,” I call out, pulling out a chair from the desk in the corner of the room and moving it to sit beside her.
”I'm so sorry,” she utters while looking at me, then quickly refocuses on the ceiling.
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