A burlap sack was placed over my head, along with a gag in my mouth to mute my screams for help. I didn't try, however, knowing that no one was stupid enough to ever try and save someone like me. No matter how heroic they were.
Mumblings and arguements came from all around me. They must've been circling me. I attempted to move my hands, but just as suspected, they were tied tight to the frigid metal chair that they had seated me in. Finally, after what felt like centuries of worthless trying to get free from the binds at my hands and feet, I was reintroduced to the rotten world.
They removed my sack, revealing what I had suspected, a surrounding circle of men with guns aimed right at my head. I noticed the slightly shocked looks on their faces. They must be wondering how such a frail girl like myself could ever break into a high security safe. I honestly didn't know how I'd done it either.
But whether or not I was some all-powerful wizard with unspeakable power or just homeless girl that really needed a shower, they weren't going to make the same mistake with me again.
One particular man stood out from the rest. With a large scar smack dab on his cheek—the bullet wound from that night—and two beefy arms. Even though he was still a child, he was one of the most menacing people in that wretched place. But I could see under that mask of anger, I could see right past it, because I knew him. Barnes.
I also knew he hated everything about me, so I probably couldn't sweet talk him out of this mess. Barnes couldn't save me this time.
I sighed and tore my eyes away from him. The fourteen year old's gaze still tearing into me. And then the endless scowls and crude remarks finally ceased as a tall, suited man walked into the rat-infested room. He adjusted his tie and walked right up to me, the circle of beefy men clearing a path for him. The neatly dressed man pulled out my gag.
His stone-cold blue eyes read my brown ones, and for a moment the man looked like he were about to smile and laugh. But instead, he walked off, the same cold expression as when he entered, and he spoke. "Charlotte Davis. It's so nice to finally meet the girl all of my clients have been talking about."
"You flatter me, but let's just cut to the chase, pretty boy: I don't have the Alistair. It's long gone by now."
He stared at me with a straight face, stone cold. "Charlotte, we both know you're lying, sweetheart. But I'm running a tight schedule, so if you'd simply tell me the truth we can both walk away from here as civilized people."
"Or what? Huh? You can't kill me, I'm the only one that knows where the stuff is." I shrugged the best I could. Dead silence filled the room as the abnormally-dressed man pulled out a a small handgun from a holster at his side.
"I have my ways of making you talk."
Suddenly, two men pushed a much more older one into the room. They pushed him to the floor in front of me and pulled the bag off of his head. Demitri sat there with welts sweltering all over his bloodied face. For a moment, I saw the old man's eyes, and for the first time since if met him they weren't a cold glare. Instead they revealed a brokenness.
What had they done to him?
The suited man placed his gun against the back of Demitri's skull. "Now, are you going to tell me where the Alistair is, or am I going to have to kill this gentleman?"
I glared up at the blue-eyed man. The look in his eyes said it all, if I wasn't going to tell him where the Alistair was, Demitri was going to paint the floor with his brains.
"Three seconds, Charlie."
I bit my lip, looking right into Demitri's eyes. But instead of finding fear and anger in them, there was relief. Almost like he wants to die. I thought.
"Three... Two..."
"You want to know where it is? Fine!" I scowled up at him. The man didn't move his gun from Demitri's head, nor his finger from the trigger. "It's back at the warehouse where you found me.
"My men already checked there."
"Then look harder." A bitter edge in my voice made the monster in a suit fall silent, but only for a few minutes. He turned to a few guards and ordered them back to Demitri's warehouse. They grumbled but soon left the room. He then turned to me and leaned in closer, our noses nearly touching.
"If you're lying, sweetheart, then your little friend here will be biting the bullet tonight. You understand?"
I spat a big wad of spit right at his face and he pulled back, scowling as he wiped his chiseled features clean. He then turned to two of the men guarding the doorway and ordered, "Take them to the cells." Before he walked behind me and out a door.
Soon the room cleared out, leaving just three other men. The two ordered to take us to our cage, and Barnes. He was still sitting in the same spot, his green eyes ripping me apart piece by piece. I looked away, not able to make any sort of eye contact.
The two men walked over to me and gagged me again, placing the sack back over my head. They scooped me up out of the chair and placed me onto one of their shoulders before heading out of the room.
I could still imagine Barnes sitting there; still see his body contort with anger and bitterness toward me. I couldn't blame him. I mean, what kind of friend abandons someone for dead? What kind of person could ever watch someone they considered a brother get shot right in front of them and not even bother to go back for them?
Me. And there's not a day that's passed that I haven't regretted it.
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