There was a knife, like she’d said. A serrated hunting one.
There were a handful of grenades.
There was a revolver. Three bullets inside of it.
A bottle of full water and a protein bar.
I took them all. The gun was in my hand, the grenades dangled precariously in my grip, and after quickly shredding through the rope that tied Yumi to the cabinet, the knife was shoved into the strap of my bra, hopefully well enough to keep it there until I disposed of the gun and had to use it too.
I opened the water, drinking a third before I handed it over alongside the protein bar. “Here. Have this before we go, but be quick.”
She gratefully took the water, only having half before she offered it back to me again. She did the same with the protein bar and even though I had intended to go without more than my first sip, the fact she insisted warmed something inside my cold, dead, heart that made me a tiny bit more aware of things than I was.
The crying girl in the walls that had been my only companion for God knows how long wasn’t made up. Nor was she a ghost. She was a stolen child who refused to take all the food and water we had before we escaped our dungeon together. She was a fucking fighter, and I was going to use the last dredges of my strength to get her out of whatever fucked up place we had been captive in together.
“Shoe things in here if you want them.” She yanked open one of the drawers, showing me what looked like security clothes from whoever’s work place we were in, after I had confirmed she was the only other innocent in the building that she said she had been in for at least three weeks.
The other girls had been sold on already.
The boots were too small for me, but only half a size too big for Yumi. The navy long sleeve shirt inside was big enough for her to wear like a dress, and the stun gun we found too was even better. She was protected and dressed in something a little nicer for whatever the elements were if we made it outside.
“Hold this and use it on the bad guys.” I showed her how the stun gun would work as I grabbed a pair of thick white socks, shoving them over my bloody feet as the tiniest bit of relief from the floor.
My body was still in the same ugly prom dress I had first woken up in and I didn’t care to change it – it meant nothing tome now. Not when I was too busy trying to find a way to escape or die anywhere other than where we were.
Not when I had been in it for so long that I had become numb to how it made me feel and what it meant.
“Stay behind me.” I ordered, and the little girl nodded her head.
The door inside the room wasn’t locked. It didn’t need to be, really. There was no way my stalker thought either of us would get out – no chance they thought I could escape what I quickly realised was a weird room in a massive mansion I didn’t recognize.
Not that it mattered anyway when Yumi seemed to know exactly where to go, and quickly whispered directions to me. I hated and loved that she knew the way. It made things easier for us, but it also meant she had been paraded around the building far too often and I couldn’t think about that now.
I couldn’t think about anything other than using the last piece of my energy to get her out of here and finding a way to cause some damage.
My outfit, bitter memories and everything else mattered even less when there was something far more important lying in the way between us and our final exit – something in the giant open hallway, filled with marble, gold and rich people bullshit on the walls, like dead deer heads and antlers, that made me pull my lips in disgust.
There were maybe two dozen men. All in various stages of sleep. I had no idea why the Vice Kings were in the same building as my dungeon even if I felt like someone had told me, but I didn’t care to remember or figure it out. I just presumed that John O’Malley knew what his sister was like and had been helping her with his minions. Either way, it didn’t matter.
The light outside told me it was nighttime. A grandfather clock I quickly found on the opposite side of the room let meknow it was nearly four in the morning. The same clock that chimed, rudely waking a few of the men who instantly spotted me there, bloodstained and manic and holding my various weapons. They barely registered Yumi as she hid behind me, doing her best to stay out of the way like I’d told her to.
“Shit.” The burly guy nearest reached for his gun, but he was already dead.
Three bullets in my revolver.
Three bullets into three gangsters.
Dead. Dead. Dead.
I was an excellent shot even when insane. I guess it was the only good thing about me I had left. That and my inability to give a fuck about living in a world that had nobody left in it for me to love beyond my uncle. And sure, I would hate leaving Beau. But leaving him and potentially finding a happy ever after with my men? Being able to see my daddy and mama again? Mal?
I would die for that.
I would die happily. The only reason I wasn’t putting a bullet in my head now was that I wanted to get Yumi out safely, and I was too spiteful not to kill Vice Kings before I kicked the bucket.
I would never die in my enemies home, I would die in my own. Where I was safe.
The other gangsters woke up the instant my gun went off, but they were still too late. Too late to do anything but scream as I threw a handful of the grenades into the room, yanking Yumi and only ducking behind the wall for a minute so that death wasn’t instant and in such a horrific manner.
