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Chapter 22

Calax

Ipushed open the door, cautiously glancing in both directions. I hadn’t needed to worry, though, because the door merely led to a steep wooden staircase. The distressed wood pressed in on either side of me making me feel boxed in. Suffocated. It smelled of copper and sweat.

I debated briefly going back for Doug. It might be good to have someone in my corner, someone who knew his way around the compound. And while those were solid reasons to bring him, the seedling of distrust continued to grow in my stomach. He would as soon stab me in the back as he would watch it.

No, I had to do this alone. Maybe, when I found Addie, I would come back for him.

But probably not.

I masked my footsteps, but it was tiring work. My hand clenched the slivered wooden railing. The food had reenergized me somewhat. Combined with the adrenaline, I felt like I could do anything.

Burn this fucking place down.

When I reached the top of the stairwell, I paused, pressing my ear to the wood. Nothing but silence greeted me from the other side, and I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I pushed open the door. Inch by fucking inch.

Thankfully, it glided silently open. Before I could even check the hallway, assure it was empty, a knife was pressed to my throat.

I froze, heart thumping, and with bated breath turned towards the person who dared to threaten me. It wasn’t a guard. It wasn’t even Bitch or Asshole. Instead, standing in her drab white dress with scars distorting her face, was Doug’s wife.

For a long, excruciating moment, we merely stared at each other. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I would. I implored her with my eyes, begged her, to look the other way.

Don’t make me hurt you.

Finally, she bobbed her head slightly and twisted the knife so the copper handle was extended to me. I stared at the weapon for a long second, too long, before gripping it and testing its weight.

It would do little against a gun or even a sword, but it would have to do.

“Thank you,” I whispered hoarsely. She opened her mouth and then closed it abruptly. Still, during that brief moment, I could see something pink and jagged twitch.

Her tongue.

Her severed tongue.

What did the bastards do to her?

It only solidified the fact they could never get their hands on Addie. I needed to leave here and find her. Warn her. Protect her.

Keep the truth from her.

The woman lifted her hands and made exaggerated gestures. I tilted my head to the side, attempting to understand. Was she trying to help me find the exit?

She blew out a breath and grabbed my arm, tugging. My feet remained cemented to the ground.

Did I follow her?

Trust her?

What alternative did I fucking have?

“You lead me to the exit, you got it?” I said to her, voice dark. “I need to get out of here.”

In answer, she tugged on my arm again.

“If you’re leading me to a trap, I’ll kill you,” I warned. Probably not the smartest idea to threaten the woman who saved me, but I was desperate.