Page 8

CHAPTER 7

KIM

M y stomach growled and the approaching darkness was making it worse. Without being able to clearly see anything in the room now that the sun was setting, my body only wanted to focus on the other senses.

But I'd take hunger over another visit from Lucas. Except...

"You think he's hurting Beasty?" My voice was so small, I hated it.

I was not insignificant.

I was Isaac Kim. America's sweetheart and highly sought-after model. Yet we were also successful businessmen.

I was powerful.

Not here though. It was like a muscle memory. All my control went out the window and I just wanted to curl in a ball with my imagination.

"We're not talking about that." Atlas' voice whipped so hard and fast through the room, it sounded like his words echoed from all sides.

"We have to talk about it sometime," Joaquin argued. He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. Did his scalp itch like mine? I hated how dirty hair felt. This was torture for so many reasons, most of all wondering where Beasty was.

Sometimes I thought it would be better for her to be here with me. Then my mind recoiled from her witnessing my shame, and I thought it was better she was upstairs without us. That thought brought a new onslaught of frustration from the unknown.

I was terrified for her, and I was helpless. We were all helpless.

"No," Lake said. "There's nothing we can do about it. The best we can do is figure out how to get out of here. Then we can help Beasty."

That made perfect sense if we were robots. I wasn't. Atlas and Lake might be.

Lake gasped and grunted as he continued to work on his chain. He'd never get–

"I got it!" He whispered. "At least, I got my hands off the hook.”

I searched the darkness wanting to confirm his words with my own eyes, but I couldn't see anything!

"How are you going to get your hands out of the cuffs?" Atlas pushed himself to the limit of his chain to get a better look at Lake's patch of darkness.

"I think I can get it. The cuffs have started to warp. I think one is also loose." He made another round of noises as he worked on his hands. "One's free!"

My heart jumped into my throat. "Seriously?" I got on my knees and Joaquin shifted out to the side.

"Yes. Just one more," he said through gritted teeth.

The chain sounded like it hit the ground.

"Did you do it?" Joaquin whisper-shouted.

"Fuck yeah, but I still have the chain around my chest."

If Lake could get his hands out of his cuffs, could I get out of mine? I raised the cuff close to my eyes so I could try and see how much space I had. It felt decently snug, but I was limber. I had the most slender hands of us all. If I folded my thumb inward, I could possibly get it through.

Shame singed the top of my ears and cheekbones.

Why hadn't I thought of this before? That was right, I was too busy falling into the trap of history. Giving up. Dwelling on things I couldn't change.

I smooshed my hand as much as I could and tried to pull it through the cuff. It didn't work. But it could if I worked it long enough. It would take the skin off my hand, but it was possible.

Who cared about that anyway? We had more money than God. I would never model again. After this, I didn't even want to show my face in public again.

The house shook from a sudden boom, and I ducked my head, curling my hands against my chest as dirt particles fell from the ceiling. Joaquin tried to cover my back but only ended up with a hand on my shoulder.

"What the hell was that?" Lake griped.

The excitement that had started to grow from that tiny kernel of hope in my stomach soured to fear as my heart played a tattoo against my ribcage.

Lake got his hands free, but if Lucas came down again, he could bind him back up or worse, kill him if he thought Lake would cause problems.

If he came down, I'd distract him.

Even my old friend, nausea, couldn't stop me from trying to save Lake.

He'd spent his whole life trying to protect us.

If I save him, he'd have to take us to lunch when we got out of here. Give a speech at Snatched about how heroic we were.

That thought made me even more sick.

There was only one way I was going to be the hero for him, and it wasn't anything I wanted him to brag about.

A rapid tat-tat-tat sounded outside, and shouts rang up in the distance.

I pushed to my feet, but the chain wasn't long enough and I fell to the floor. "I need to see outside. Is that happening out there? Are they getting attacked?"

"I hope so," Atlas said softly.

Holding my breath, I looked up at the ceiling, waiting–hoping–there was a rescue on the way.

Save Beasty first , was the mantra inside my head.

Something crashed and that definitely came from upstairs. Solid footsteps pounded right overhead, and I closed my eyes from the dust hitting my face.

"Shit, that stings." Joaquin must have been doing the same thing.

A short cry that sounded like it might have been Lucas happened at the top of the stairs. It was muffled, but I still heard it!

I wanted to shout at the guys, make sure they heard it too, but I was afraid to say it out loud.

Everything stopped. A deathly silence blanketed the house.

Not even our breaths punctured it.

A soft murmur floated down to us. A woman.

"Is that Beasty?" I was afraid to hope.

We'd come so far in the years since we'd been discovered. We'd grown so much. But being here quickly reminded me that none of that mattered.

Strip away the fame, money, and security we'd built for ourselves, and we were the same kids Gates took.

We weren't safe. We couldn't protect Beasty.

We couldn't even protect ourselves.

Still, I wanted to hear Beasty's voice. I wanted to hold her. For her to hold me. My eyes misted.

The door creaked open.

"Guys?" It was Beasty. It was really her.

"We're here!" Lake yelled. Of course, he was the most put-together of us.

I didn't want to see her. What if she was bruised? What if she'd lost the light in her eyes that made her so fierce?

"They're down there."

"I heard," said another woman, amusement coating her words.

The light flicked on, and I winced as Beasty flew down the steps so fast, I think she jumped over the last couple.

"Oh, no. Oh, no." Beasty waved her hands as she ran straight to Lake. "We need a first aid kit!" She wildly glanced around the room, searching for us.

Her gaze landed on me first and her eyes teared up. Then Joaquin, and finally Atlas.

I turned my head as my cheeks burned. I hadn't felt shame like this since I was a kid.

"Kim, please don't turn away from me." She dropped down and reached for my face, but I pulled back, turning deeper into the wall.

"I–" Beasty didn't finish as someone else came down the stairs. "Here, I'll take that. Can you get the guys loose?"

"Yup. You do your thing. Actually, let me get that chain first." There was a screeching noise, then chains fell.

I couldn't take not knowing what was happening anymore and turned around. A woman a head shorter than Beasty had bolt cutters in her hand, and Lake was chain-free.

Another woman was coming down the stairs with blond hair and vivid tawny eyes. Her demeanor was more businesslike and her expression flattened when she took us in.

Beasty was busy working on Lake's hands and he hissed through his teeth at whatever liquid she applied. "I'm so sorry," Beasty whispered in a thick voice.

My own throat started to close up as the woman with the bolt cutters walked toward me, raising her brows as if asking for permission. She had dark hair and a friendly face.

Tears tracked down my cheeks as it all made sense. Beasty hadn’t been trapped here. She brought reinforcements. She saved us.

Again.

"Get Kim first." Joaquin nodded at me.

The woman blew out a breath. "Sure." After cutting my chain, she moved to Joaquin, then to Atlas. We still had the cuffs on our wrists or ankles, but we were free.

None of us moved at first.

Lake was mesmerized by Beasty, as was Atlas. I was still in shock.

We hadn't been here that long, yet it had been long enough to sap my hope of ever escaping.

I glanced at Joaquin. His cheeks were sucked in as he glanced at his hands.

We were free even though it still felt like we were chained up.

"Bishop, if you want to help me get them upstairs, Cash can pick the locks on the cuffs."

"No problem, V," the friendly woman she called Bishop tossed over her shoulder.

"Vienna," the woman returned, still in business mode.

"Sure." Bishop grinned as she reached for Atlas. "Come on, you."

"I'm not leaving Beasty down here."

"Beasty?" Vienna twisted, a cold mask settling over her face. "Why would you call her that?"

"It's my nickname from the town where I grew up. They don't mean anything by it," Beasty said absently as she wrapped up Lake's hands. I couldn’t see them clearly, but what I could see were scraped, bloody, and swollen.

Vienna shook her head but didn't say anything. Instead, she held out a hand to me. I raised my gaze to hers. She didn't seem like a threat, but I was still frozen to the floor.

"Take her hand, Kim." Joaquin touched my arm. "Please."

Nodding, I placed my hand in hers, and she pulled me up with surprising strength. When I was standing, she let go, but watched me, probably making sure I wouldn't fall. Joaquin was next.

Beasty was done with Lake's hands, and once he was on his feet, she rushed over to us, throwing her arms around both Joaquin and me. Joaquin weakly patted her back.

I didn't. I couldn't even raise my arms.

She hadn’t been locked up here. She shouldn't be here now.

"I'm so glad you're all okay," she buried her face in Joaquin's chest. "Atlas?" She raised her head and frowned when she realized he was a few feet away.

He was laser-focused on her. When she tore herself away from us, she threw herself at him. He opened his arms and caught her, falling back a step but the wall made sure he didn't fall completely.

Lake walked over to them, holding his hands in front of him. They were wrapped almost completely from forearm to fingertips.

If we were anywhere else, any other time, I'd expect Joaquin or Atlas to make some smart comment about having Q-tips for hands.

"Beasty," Lake joined them, pressing into her back and breathing in her hair. "Were you here?"

"No, I wasn't." She dropped her gaze.

Joaquin deflated so much, I reached out to catch him. Vienna was faster than me.

"Come on, let's get you guys upstairs." Bishop curled her fingers around my elbow and started guiding me toward the stairs. Out of habit, I yanked away from her and she held up her hands.

When Bishop didn’t make any other moves to approach me, I went to the stairs first.

It was surreal. I'd never seen these stairs from this position, and now this was my path to get out of this hellhole.

The stairs creaked under my weight and didn't stop as the others filed behind me. At the top of the staircase, the faded, cream door was littered with scratch marks and the bottom was speckled with dirt.

How many people had Lucas trapped in the basement? Did he chain us up because he'd learned his lesson?

The answers didn't matter. Getting out of here mattered.

I pushed the door open, and the squeaking hinges grated on my ears. Warmth that had been missing from the basement blasted me in the face along with the smell of some kind of stew.

Whimpering came from the living room.

I stayed where I was, afraid to move forward. Joaquin didn't push, and the others on the stairs didn't complain either. They were waiting for me to be ready.

"I said shut up, you nasty piece of shit." The words were muffled but understandable.

The whimpering grew louder as I stepped into the house.

It was cramped, with the living room on the left and the kitchen and dining room on the right. The decor was dated to at least the seventies. The place wasn't quite an open floor plan, but the rooms all flowed together to this spot.

A man with short, dirty-blond hair, dressed in black cargo pants and shirt, stood over a quivering Lucas with a gun aimed at his face.

The air shifted behind me as everyone came up from the basement, yet I couldn't pull myself away from Lucas. He huddled in a ball, helpless, just as he'd tried to make us with the chains.

"What do you want to do with him?" The man asked, glancing toward us before settling on something behind me.

"That's up to Cressida. She was the one running this show," Vienna said as she walked around us to join the man, staring down at Lucas with disgust.

"That should really be up to the boys." Beasty stepped up next to me, linking her fingers with mine. I started to pull away, but Vienna's gaze zeroed in on our hands, and I stopped. But I didn't return the hold.

Beasty frowned at our hands before looking over her shoulder. "This man was an associate of the Curator. As far as we could tell, he's completely unrelated to the Pescis," she filled us in on what we already knew.

Lucas tucked his head between his knees as his shoulders shook. I didn't think he was crying. He was terrified.

"I don't want him to walk out of here," Beasty said with such force it came out as a growl.

"No one wants that." Lake walked to Lucas, towering over him. His entire body strung tight, as if he was physically restraining himself from losing it on the man.

The man held the gun out to Lake. "You want to do the honors?"

Lake nodded as Beasty spoke up. "I want to do it."

We all turned to Beasty.

"Why would you want to do that?" I asked.

"Because." She swallowed, moving forward and meeting Lake's gaze. "You want me to prove I'm here for the right reasons? That I'll do whatever it takes to keep you all safe?"

Lake's expression softened, and he shook his head. "No, Beasty." Raising a hand, he awkwardly shifted some of her hair out of her face, a few strands catching on the bandages. "Saving us proves that enough. I don't want you to get blood on your hands. That's my job." He turned back to the man. "I want a knife to return the favor." Lake motioned to his ribs.

Beasty's eyes brightened with unshed tears when she took in those cuts. "I hadn't even noticed those downstairs."

Grinning, the man pulled a wickedly sharp knife off his belt and held it out handle-first to Lake. Lake managed to widen the bandages restricting his right hand and grip the hilt. He moved Beasty back several steps, then he got to work on Lucas, who screamed so loud people within a mile probably heard him.

If he was an apprentice of Gates like he said, this property was secluded enough.

"Who are you people?" Joaquin blurted out over Lucas' shouts of pain, a bit of his usual attitude leaking into his voice.

"I'm a friend of Cressida's." Bishop joined Vienna, but not before stomping on Lucas' toes.

Leveling each of us with a measured stare, Vienna adopted a slight smile. "It's nice to meet you. My dad is the one who killed the Curator."