Page 23 of Craved By Gray
Gray was right. Does this mean that he was right about the trafficking and auctioning too? I don’t care to think too much about it, I don’t have time. Later, when the world comes crashing down as I know it will, and these documents have landed in the right hands, then I will allow myself to confront the role I’ve played in all of this.
The door remains closed as everything copies onto the flash drive, and I’m half terrified my father will stomp in and catch me but it never happens. I grab the drive once it’s done and shut down the computer before moving to the next step. I open and close the desk drawers, searching for a spare key to open the door. The frantic pounding of my heart echoes loud in my ears as I scan the drawers, nearly sobbing when I come back empty. He was careful, it seems.
I flop back on the seat, my heart sinking at the thought of being stuck in here until my father gets back when I catch a glimmer of metal on my father’s desk. Not the key I wassearching for, but a letter opener. It’s a long shot, but it’s all I have. I snatch it up, my fingers trembling as I rush to the door.
I drop to my knees, my breath comes in ragged pants as I fumble with the lock, the letter opener scraping against the metal. I don’t think it’ll work. I’ve only seen it in movies before, and I assume they only add this bit for the plot, but...
“Oh Jesus!” I gasp when the lock gives way, the door creaking open with a groan. I take a second to marvel at my unexpected success, but only a second before slowly pulling the door open a little more and peeking out. The hallway is empty, but I pause for a minute to listen in. All sounds are coming from downstairs, and I imagine it’ll take a while before my father or anyone else thinks to come up here. Either way, I don’t want to chance it.
As quietly as possible, I tiptoe down the hall until I get to the end. I swallow as I take the stairs down, following the noise. They are in the entertainment room, every last one of them, cackling and jeering.
I slip around the corner and peek in, and the scene makes my blood run cold. My father is leaning against the wall opposite the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and an angry sneer on his face. Seated in the center of the room and tied to a chair with his back to my father is Gray. The rope binding his wrists is thick and rough, digging into his flesh, and I see the bruises already forming on his skin. His chest is bare, and I spot the red welts on his skin, but it’s the blood tickling down his face that worries me.
This is my fault.
Christ, if he hadn’t run into me, then this would never have happened to him. He’d never have been exposed if he hadn’tcome to see me in my father’s office. They would never have caught him if he hadn’t been in my apartment this morning.
I did this.
My eyes shift back to his face, expecting to read pain and fear in his expression, but instead, there is a smirk. A taunting smile that is sure to drive these men crazy. I slap a palm on my mouth to stop a cry when one of the guys attempts to punch the smile off his lips. Gray barely moves, smiling through bloody teeth.
“You hit like a bitch!”
He’s taunting them. He probably thinks he’s going to die and doesn’t want to go down as a coward. The thought tugs at my heartstrings as I turn away from the scene. I creep back to the stairs and go up to the second floor where I know the window that opens to the fire escape is broken. I scramble toward it, my heart pounding in my chest as I pray like I never do that no one fixed the broken latch. I breathe a sigh of relief when I find it still broken.
Moving carefully as to not make a sound, I squeeze through the narrow window. My clothes catch the rough edges, and the cold rusty metal bites into my hand as I slowly climb down. My heart drops to my stomach when it creaks, but when no one comes rushing up, I slowly move down. I make it out without alerting anyone, scanning around the place for what I need to do to get Gray away from a crowd of angry men when I spot them.
I don’t have time to think as I run to the row of bikes, each parked dangerously close to the other. It’s a chance. A perfect distraction.
Without second thought, I run to the first bike, and with a deep breath, I kick it and send it tumbling over. It crashes intothe second, which crashes into the third, and like dominoes, they all follow. A loud metallic clang echoes through the air as the bikes fall, each crashing into the next. I don’t stand around to watch the beautiful scene as I sprint around the building, barely making it to safety before angry bikers come out, cursing and yelling.
“Fucking Rebels. I bet they did this. Find them!”
“What about the guy?”
“He’s tied to the fucking chair; he’s not going anywhere.”
There’s no time to think. Or be scared. My thoughts are on him.
On saving the man I love.
I have a small window to save him before the angry bikers come bellowing back in. I use code in the keypad to open the back door. I hiss out a relieved sigh when the door opens, having been afraid my father had already deactivated my code. As predicted, the entertainment room is empty, save for the man I love tied to a chair.
I hesitate before entering, afraid my father might have stayed behind as his men went to deal with the damaged bikes, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Gray is completely alone in the room. At the sound of my steps, Gray looks up, and I read surprise in those blue eyes I love. I want to kiss him. Hug him. Apologize for putting his life in danger. His life would have been easier if he’d never met me. He’s hurting because of me.
There are tears in my eyes when I kneel in front of him, my hands shaking as I fumble with the ropes. “I’ll get you out,” I whisper, my voice choked with emotion. I curse when my trembling hands fail the first time, steadying them before trying again. The thought of my father and his men coming back andhurting Gray again spurs me into action, and I finally manage to loosen the knots. When the ropes fall away, I find myself longing to wrap my arms around him and hold tight, but I don’t trust in my ability to let go.
“Scarlett...”
“No time, let’s go,” I whisper, wiping the tears with the back of my hand before taking his. “There’s a door in the back. I bet you’ve seen it. Use it to get away.”
“Scarlett...”
“They’ll be looking for you. My father will kill you if he finds you. Please go.”
“Scarlett,” he says again, lifting his bruised hand to my chin, the same spot my father had touched before, but Gray’s touch is gentle. Kind. “I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean any of the words I said in your apartment.”
I shake my head, unwilling to waste time on this. “Gray, please go.” When he hesitates, I let the cold detachment I’d mastered for my father slip into my eyes and voice. “I did not go to all this trouble for you to get caught again. Take this. It’s what you used me for, isn’t it?” I shove the flash drive into his palm and step away. “Leave. Just go. I hope to never see you again.”
