Deceiving Lies
Page 51
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After having her remove the second chair, I stood back and counted to twenty before making sure she was hidden behind my body, and opening the door as quietly as possible. I took three steps forward with Rachel gripping the back of my shirt, my arms shaking so much I was barely able to keep my gun in the air as I prepared for anyone that might meet us in the hall.
When both sides of the hallway came up empty, I put my lips to her ear and whispered, “Walk until I say otherwise.”
We made it to my room without seeing or hearing anything, and as soon as we were inside, I pushed the workout equipment back against the doors.
“If you have to go to the bathroom, go. If anyone gets through that door—”
“Scream, I know.” She ran to the bathroom and I collapsed against the equipment, my breathing heavy and ragged.
Even with the makeshift tourniquet, new blood had made its way through the material, and was steadily dripping down my arm from the use of it just now. Using my shirt, I tried to rub off as much blood as possible before pushing myself up, and making my way to the closet.
After loading the magazine in my gun, I pulled out another handgun and made sure it had a full magazine before pulling out one of my assault rifles. The weight was something I was so used to, but at the moment, it felt like I was lifting a car just to get the strap around my neck.
“We need to get out of here. I have that same bad feeling I had yesterday.”
I turned and nodded as I eyed Rachel warily, trying not to show any pain as I put the shoulder holster on and placed both handguns in there. If I had just listened to her the day before, we wouldn’t be where we were now. She wouldn’t be hurt, and I wouldn’t be about to put us in a situation I thought we wouldn’t make it out of alive.
“Ready, Rachel?”
“No . . . let’s do it.”
In any other situation, that would have made me smile. In any other life, I would give anything to have met her under normal circumstances and made her mine. As it was, I lowered my rifle and wrapped an arm around her body to pull her close.
She wrapped her hands around my neck, letting me hold her, and her voice was shaky when she said, “I don’t know what you did before you came into my life, and I don’t care. You may have done some bad things, but you’re not a bad person. You’re caring and brave, and I will never forget what you’ve done for me.”
My chest tightened and I pulled back enough to look at her face. It took all my restraint not to crush my mouth to hers again right there.
“Get us out of here, Trent,” she said, and the hands around my neck slid down my arms. Her grip wasn’t tight, but it was enough.
I choked out a cry of pain and tried to turn from her, but one of her hands went up to my shoulder and stopped me. The other didn’t leave my bandaged arm.
“Trent . . . what . . . what is this? Are you—are you bleeding? You said they didn’t hurt you!”
“I’m fine, we need to go.”
“No!” she cried, and the tears that had been threatening earlier began falling down her cheeks. “No, you can’t be hurt, tell me what happened! Why would you lie to me?”
“It just grazed me, I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine!” she hissed and pulled her hand away from me to inspect it in the dark. “You wouldn’t be bleeding through whatever this is on your arm if it just grazed—” She broke off, and a muffled cry came from where her clean hand was covering most of her face. “Trent . . .” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. I told you, I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
Before she could stop me, I bent and gritted my teeth through the pain as I shoved the workout machine away from the door. More blood flowed past the bandage, and Rachel’s hand slipped down my arm when she grabbed at it.
“Trent, stop!”
“I’m all right, but we need to get out of here, we need to stay quiet. Okay?” When she didn’t say anything, I grabbed her bloodied hand, and squeezed it once. “I’m going to be fine, Rachel, I swear to you.”
She nodded, and I turned quickly away from her. I hated lying to her, everything about it was wrong. I knew if we could get out of here and find a hospital, I would live and have no problems from the gunshot wound. But while I knew I would go down fighting to make sure she escaped, I didn’t believe for one second that the guys would let me live. If by some miracle we both got out, I would be arrested as soon as I got her to safety. Once I was in prison with Romero and the others, my life would be over. They would already know what I’d done to the rest of the crew; it would all just be a matter of how and when they killed me.
Opening the door, I held up my rifle, my arms so weak I could barely keep it out in front of me. “Stay behind me, Rachel,” I whispered over my shoulder.
I stepped out with Rachel clutching my shirt, and began making my way toward the entrance of the underground building. We made it past the kitchen and the room I’d spent over a month in with Rachel, and had barely gone another dozen feet when the eerie feeling of being watched washed over me.
I stopped and listened for a few seconds before continuing forward—but the closer we got to the door that led upstairs, the worse the feeling got. It was too quiet, even with five of the guys dead. Something was wrong; they wouldn’t have let us come out of both rooms without bombarding us. The guys weren’t calculating enough to be stealthy and to wait for you to come to them. They were impatient and wanted nothing more than to get what they want. Granted, they would have waited for us to come out of the rooms, but they wouldn’t have stayed hidden like this.
When both sides of the hallway came up empty, I put my lips to her ear and whispered, “Walk until I say otherwise.”
We made it to my room without seeing or hearing anything, and as soon as we were inside, I pushed the workout equipment back against the doors.
“If you have to go to the bathroom, go. If anyone gets through that door—”
“Scream, I know.” She ran to the bathroom and I collapsed against the equipment, my breathing heavy and ragged.
Even with the makeshift tourniquet, new blood had made its way through the material, and was steadily dripping down my arm from the use of it just now. Using my shirt, I tried to rub off as much blood as possible before pushing myself up, and making my way to the closet.
After loading the magazine in my gun, I pulled out another handgun and made sure it had a full magazine before pulling out one of my assault rifles. The weight was something I was so used to, but at the moment, it felt like I was lifting a car just to get the strap around my neck.
“We need to get out of here. I have that same bad feeling I had yesterday.”
I turned and nodded as I eyed Rachel warily, trying not to show any pain as I put the shoulder holster on and placed both handguns in there. If I had just listened to her the day before, we wouldn’t be where we were now. She wouldn’t be hurt, and I wouldn’t be about to put us in a situation I thought we wouldn’t make it out of alive.
“Ready, Rachel?”
“No . . . let’s do it.”
In any other situation, that would have made me smile. In any other life, I would give anything to have met her under normal circumstances and made her mine. As it was, I lowered my rifle and wrapped an arm around her body to pull her close.
She wrapped her hands around my neck, letting me hold her, and her voice was shaky when she said, “I don’t know what you did before you came into my life, and I don’t care. You may have done some bad things, but you’re not a bad person. You’re caring and brave, and I will never forget what you’ve done for me.”
My chest tightened and I pulled back enough to look at her face. It took all my restraint not to crush my mouth to hers again right there.
“Get us out of here, Trent,” she said, and the hands around my neck slid down my arms. Her grip wasn’t tight, but it was enough.
I choked out a cry of pain and tried to turn from her, but one of her hands went up to my shoulder and stopped me. The other didn’t leave my bandaged arm.
“Trent . . . what . . . what is this? Are you—are you bleeding? You said they didn’t hurt you!”
“I’m fine, we need to go.”
“No!” she cried, and the tears that had been threatening earlier began falling down her cheeks. “No, you can’t be hurt, tell me what happened! Why would you lie to me?”
“It just grazed me, I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine!” she hissed and pulled her hand away from me to inspect it in the dark. “You wouldn’t be bleeding through whatever this is on your arm if it just grazed—” She broke off, and a muffled cry came from where her clean hand was covering most of her face. “Trent . . .” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. I told you, I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
Before she could stop me, I bent and gritted my teeth through the pain as I shoved the workout machine away from the door. More blood flowed past the bandage, and Rachel’s hand slipped down my arm when she grabbed at it.
“Trent, stop!”
“I’m all right, but we need to get out of here, we need to stay quiet. Okay?” When she didn’t say anything, I grabbed her bloodied hand, and squeezed it once. “I’m going to be fine, Rachel, I swear to you.”
She nodded, and I turned quickly away from her. I hated lying to her, everything about it was wrong. I knew if we could get out of here and find a hospital, I would live and have no problems from the gunshot wound. But while I knew I would go down fighting to make sure she escaped, I didn’t believe for one second that the guys would let me live. If by some miracle we both got out, I would be arrested as soon as I got her to safety. Once I was in prison with Romero and the others, my life would be over. They would already know what I’d done to the rest of the crew; it would all just be a matter of how and when they killed me.
Opening the door, I held up my rifle, my arms so weak I could barely keep it out in front of me. “Stay behind me, Rachel,” I whispered over my shoulder.
I stepped out with Rachel clutching my shirt, and began making my way toward the entrance of the underground building. We made it past the kitchen and the room I’d spent over a month in with Rachel, and had barely gone another dozen feet when the eerie feeling of being watched washed over me.
I stopped and listened for a few seconds before continuing forward—but the closer we got to the door that led upstairs, the worse the feeling got. It was too quiet, even with five of the guys dead. Something was wrong; they wouldn’t have let us come out of both rooms without bombarding us. The guys weren’t calculating enough to be stealthy and to wait for you to come to them. They were impatient and wanted nothing more than to get what they want. Granted, they would have waited for us to come out of the rooms, but they wouldn’t have stayed hidden like this.
