they can strip me from myself further more?” I point a finger at his chest. “Not going to happen, Dylan.”
He thrusts his phone in his pocket. “The conditions back then weren’t the same as now. At that time, their aim was to break, not heal you.”
“You always saw me as a hindrance to your little revenge game with Tristan.” My voice is monotone. “I know you’ve been plotting to send me away, but your schemes won’t work on me. Give it up.”
“Giving up isn’t in my dictionary.” A smirk plays on his lips. “You’re the one who told me I’m infuriatingly persistent.”
At least he’s aware of that. “For now, take care of your own demons and leave me with mine.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Fair enough.”
The rest of the ride is spent in mollifying silence as he goes back to stock trading on his phone. Unlike Tristan, Dylan knows when to hold his tongue. Probably because he hates me.
Mutual feelings.
Once I reach my quarters, I loosen my bow-tie, easing pressure off my neck.
The clock on the wall reads half past midnight. I dial Kane.
“What can I do for you, Sir?” There’s no hint of sleepiness in his modulated voice.
“From now on, I shall need two portions for my supper.” I gave up my soup for Mae earlier.
“Very well, Sir.”
No enquiries. No questions whatsoever. He’s a model help. No wonder he excels as an executive in the conglomerate, too.
Once I end the call, I click the remote control, springing the security footage to life.
Mae is curled in a ball on the bed, eyes closed, the sheet covering her from head to toe. Strands of grey-blonde hair cocoon her in their grasp. Her feet twitch as she tightens her hold on the sheet.
Long-term captives aren’t my expertise, but I assume they can freeze to death.
I rummage through my clothes and pick cotton trousers, a shirt, a jacket and a blanket, then head to the dungeons.
I press the automatic key, clicking the door open.
Mae isn’t on the bed. Strange, she was sleeping a few minutes ago.
I step into the room to check the bathroom when ripples of pain explode in my skull. I halt. My hands unclench. The clothes fall to the ground. Dizziness takes over, and I sway back, almost losing my balance.
Despite the momentary disorientation, I spot Mae dodging past me.
Even with the warm liquid blurring my vision, my reflexes shoot to high alert. I steady my feet, clutching the wall for balance. I wipe at my forehead. The sight of my own blood springs the need to draw pain in return.
‘She hurt you!’ Aunt’s voice freezes my veins. ‘Even by the cheesy voice’s rules, you can hurt her too.’
I smile, whirling towards the darkness of the dungeons.
Mae has to pay.
Chapter Eight
Mae
I did it.
I ran.
My bare feet hobble along the icy stone floor. Prickling shivers travel throughout my body.
The tight long corridor slumps in silence. Grey light gets darker the further my vision goes. A scream forms at the depth of my throat, tingling to carve its way out.
My pace weakens, and I clasp my eyes shut, so tight, they hurt. Breathe in. Breathe out.
It’s okay, Mae. You can do this.
Running in the dark is a better fate than dying at that psycho’s hands.
I open my eyes. Ahead of me is a sombre tunnel-like-corridor with no end in sight.
The sour taste of adrenaline floods my mouth. My mind clears. Renewed energy storms my limbs.
I can do this. I can escape.
Run. Run. Run.
Droplets of sweat sting my lids, blurring my vision. Hair sticks to the back of my neck. My frozen feet tingle. Pain shreds my leg and thigh muscles. My lungs burn, my breaths coming in gasps.
I don’t know how much I go at it, but I don’t stop. Can’t stop.
If the psycho finds me, I’ll be long dead.
I won’t die. Not now. And definitely not in this Godforsaken place.
Endless stone walls fly past, soon morphing into heinous grey phantoms. Their mouths so wide as if they plan to have me for supper. Unintelligible chants remind me of the frightened little seven-year-old girl I once were.
They’re not real, Mae.
I focus on the humming beat in my ears and my ragged breaths instead of the dreadful sounds.
Does