Guilty

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

--- Niall’s P.O.V ---

“Hey, blondie.”

I whisper to Hannah, or whatever the hell her name is. She looks up from staring at the concrete floor.

“Wanna help me over here?” I ask, holding up my cuffed hands. She narrows her eyes at me before looking back to the floor. “I’ll make it worth your while, Hannah.”

That seems to catch her attention because she slowly lifts her head. She rolls her eyes before finally speaking. “My name is Annabeth, you douche,” She says and I bite back a smile. Girls don’t usually curse at me. This Annabeth girl and Claire have been the first in a long time!

“And what do you mean ‘worth my while’?”

I think for a few seconds on what I can offer her. An idea pops into my head.

“How old are you, Annabeth?”

She looks startled by my question. “How old are you?” I smirk at her childish comeback.

“Twenty five. Your turn,” I say and Annabeth looks satisfied with my answer. I answered honestly so I don’t see how she couldn’t be!

“Sixteen.”

My plans click in my head and I try to give my best convincing grin. “So two more years till ya can buy alcohol for you and all ya reject friends, eh?” She rolls her eyes again. God, why does every single girl around here constantly roll their eyes! “Yeah, and?”

“I can get you and all your shitty friends fake I.D’s. You can get into bars, clubs, strip clubs, or whatever the hell else you’re into!” I try to persuade her and I can see Annabeth thinking it over.

“And all I have to do is get you able to use your hands, right?” She asks, and I look down at my bound feet. Her eyes follow mine. “And your feet,” She adds, and I nod my head. Suddenly she stands up from her spot in the corner and starts to walk towards me. In one swift move, she pulls a pocketknife out from her sock and begins to saw away on the chain binding my hands.

It takes about two or three minutes, but eventually the chain is loose enough for me to be able to pull it apart. I grab the knife from Annabeth’s hand and take a few whacks at the chain binding my feet. It breaks after the sixth hit. I hand it back to her, and stand up.

“You got a bobby pin in that mess of hair?” I ask her, and to my surprise she doesn’t object to my comment before pulling one off her head.

It only takes me a minute to open the cell door, and I throw the bobby pin back to Annabeth.

“I suggest you stay in here, Annabeth. You don’t have a record now, but if they find you wandering around outside, you’ll have one like mine in no time.”

Annabeth nods her head, sticks the pin back into her hair, and waits for me to open the door. I push it open, walk through, and she closes it behind me.

“Fake asleep, or knocked out, or something.”

She nods again and rushes back to her shadowy corner. She pulls her hood back and my eyes widen when I see a giant cut running along her forehead. Annabeth lies on the ground and shuts her eyes.

“My ex-boyfriend’s an ass and likes big blades. Don’t worry about me. Just get your criminal ass out of here before you and I both get caught!” She whisper-yells and I don’t hesitate before walking towards the door.

Now how am I going to do this?

I’m sure my mug shots have been passed around already among these asses, so how can I get by unnoticed?

I push the door open and silently thank God when I see an emergency exit door a few feet away. I rush towards it with my head tucked low. No one seems to be passing by this hallway.

There is a giant sign next to the door that says ‘ALARM WILL SOUND WHEN OPENED’, but I ignore it. Half of the time these signs aren’t even true, and that is a risk that I am willing to take right now. I will not be going to a high security prison. I could deal with being locked in a cell for a few hours and questioned by a dick and his sidekick, but I cannot deal with being constantly observed and controlled by people who think they are so powerful just because of a simple uniform.

The door opens and I let out a sigh when alarms don’t immediately start going off. I was kind of hoping for some kind of chase… That’d be more fun than a simple escape! It’d make a better story too.

Then I remember what my friend Cole said to me once about alarms.

“Sometimes they set them up just so the person who needs to know they’re going off hears them.”

I take off running into the parking lot, trying to get as far away from this building as I possibly can. The door shuts as I jump over a patch of wet grass. Wet grass means mud, and these shoes were really expensive! Zayn would kill me if I got them dirty.

I glance back at the station as I run through the parking lot nervously. What if I get caught?

All of the sudden I run into something. I grab it with both hands and stare with wide eyes.

 

I totally jinxed this escape.