"I'm glad that you both found this place." The cold, cruel voice of William cuts through the quiet air of the warehouse. It's starting to go dark outside now yet Morgan and I are still clumped together in the same position that we've been in for hours. The crying stopped a long time ago, filling the room with an eerie, almost sinister, silence. Since then, we've sat amongst the dust and simply stared out at the desert from one of the back windows, as it changes colour from its Arizonian deep red, to a faded orange. The sky, which was a clear blue, is now darkening into a mix of navy and pink shades. If the circumstances were different, the view would be beautiful, perhaps even breath-taking. But right now, it's tragic. Even though tonight is the night of our escape, I can't help but feel so isolated and trapped, more trapped than I've ever felt during my time here. I've lost pretty much any hope of a rescue now. Tragedy after tragedy keeps striking us. What's to say that the boys won't get caught during this mission? What's to say that we don't mess it all up?
I watch silently as William makes his way past the collage on the wall, stopping a couple of meters from us. The individual pictures are going dark now, stolen by twilight, but I know exactly which one he is looking at. He makes me sick. Morgan doesn't look up, her steady breathing doesn't even change. Instead, she carries on clenching and unclenching the material around my wrist. Her face remains buried in my shoulder.
"Are you going to tell me how the pair of you got up here?" William asks calmly, picking the picture off from the wall and studying it closer.
I don't grace him with an answer, only a glare, which he seems to find amusing.
"Well, I must say that you've thrown a spanner into the works girls. This wasn't the plan at all. But now that you both know the truth about-"
"Don't you dare say her name." I cut him off darkly, not recognising the sound of my own voice. Morgan remains bundled up in my arms, not moving and not speaking.
"Hmm." He responds, pinning the picture back up on to the wall. "Does it hurt?"
I stay silent again, too angry to even string a sentence together.
"Do you feel anything at all Genevieve?" He pushes, taking a step towards us.
I refuse to rise to the bait and clutch Morgan tighter instead.
"She was a lovely girl, you know. So well mannered, so patient with us. She actually believed that we would let her go home to her family. She believed that she would see Enzo again. How naïve. But I must admit, she was particularly intelligent. It took us months to capture her because she was so... involved. You two however, well, you two are stupid. Morgan practically volunteered to come here. Gen, you stepped straight into our hands. Yet here you are, and you have the audacity to talk back to me, to act like my equal. You silly, stupid, naïve, little girls. I can tell you right now that you will not share the fate of-"
"Don't you dare say her name." I shout, trying but failing to keep my emotions under control. "You are disgusting."
"No," he replies quietly, releasing a small smile. "Your fate shall be so much worse-"
"Sir!" William is cut off by three distressed-looking guards dressed head to toe in dark colours, as they run into the room, creating a large dust storm. They're wearing their combat clothes; black steel-capped boots, black combat trousers, navy utility jackets, tight bullet proof vests, and ski masks, so that we cannot see their faces. They look larger and more serious than they normally do in their workout gear. Strapped to their legs and chests, knives and guns are displayed. A cold pool of dread diffuses into my stomach.
"What?" William growls, angry that his verbal teasing session has been cut short.
"There's been an explosion at the front gate Sir, three men have been taken out. The motion detectors were activated but all of the cameras are down inside and outside of the base. We can't see who's here and who isn't." Lorrie. My heart skips a beat, despite the situation. Could it be them? It must be... Where are they now? Who is with him?
William freezes, turning redder and redder as every second passes. He looks down at the pair of us on the floor, a dark and sinister look moulding his face. Without taking his eyes from us, he addresses the guards.
"Take them to their rooms and watch them." He hisses, spitting at Morgan and I. "They're here."
William leaves abruptly, followed by one of the guards. The other two nod stiffly and make their way towards the pair of us like looming robots. For the first time, Morgan looks up and begins to cry again, weakly rolling off of me. The tallest out of the pair determinedly makes his way towards me, the smaller of the two girls, most likely trying to intimidate me. With anger fuelling my veins and rage escaping from every pore of my skin, I kick out at him with as much force as I can summon as he reaches for my arm, pushing him back a foot. He's obviously caught by surprise, but doesn't waste a second as I scramble to my feet. He's already lunging for me when I kick up the dust below us, creating an indestructible cloud of white. I have seconds, seconds, to decide what to do. With Morgan lost in the dust as well, the only thing that I can hope to do is run. But before I get the chance, two muscular arms circle around my body with a force that knocks all of the air from me. I screech and try to kick back at him but it doesn't work, he's too strong and too good at his job. But I'm not the type to easily give up. As he drags me through the dust, kicking and screaming, towards the door that he entered through, I grab one of his knives that is strapped to his thigh and try to turn around so that I'm facing him. However, he's already caught on to what I'm thinking. Taking my right arm by the wrist, he pushes me away from him with a swift arch of his arm, jerking my whole body. I still manage to throw the knife towards him but because of his movement, it falls lamely between the pair of us, landing with a sad thud on the concrete floor. Instantly, he pulls me back towards his chest and restrains me against him in a painful position.
"Asshole." I mutter, pushing my heels into the concrete so that it's harder for him to walk. Because of his overwhelming height, it doesn't impact him as much as it should. Morgan, however, is putting up no fight as her guard leads her through the settling dust towards the door. In fact, he only has one hand on her shoulder as she walks out the exit, still crying, still looking destroyed. I want to kill Shelley.
My guard speeds up to catch up with Morgan, so I stop digging my heels in and let him walk me to her. We meet at an elevator door, but this elevator is different to the main one, the one that leads to our rooms. It's smaller and made of stainless steel.
"They have a secret elevator?" Morgan whispers in disbelief when her guard reaches forwards and presses the button. I can tell that she's angry at herself for not discovering it. Immediately, the doors slide open to reveal a small metal box.
"Not just looks then, are you?" Her guard drawls, squeezing her waist before shoving her in. She doesn't say anything as she tumbles forwards and makes impact with the metal casing of the wall. He follows suit and presses her against the wall so that she cannot resist. This time, I practically drag my guard into the elevator before the doors can close.
"What numbers are you on girls?" Morgan's guard asks when the doors slide shut.
"Level seven." Morgan says weakly, still pressed against the wall.
I don't reply which causes my guard to nudge me.
"What number are you on?" Morgan's guard hisses, annoyed at my resistance.
"Fuck you." I hiss back. My guard manoeuvres my body so that I'm pressed up against the side of the elevator, like Morgan, but unlike her guard, mine faces me so that I cannot see the guard behind him. Surprisingly, he loosens his grip on me so that it's not as painful.
"She's on eight." Morgan answers before her guard can go haywire and smack me. A tense silence fills the box as my guard presses seven and eight and the box begins to move. As we get closer to my floor, a wailing siren fills the air, reminding us that there is a major security threat.
The door slides open on eight and my guard tightens his grip on me before dragging me into a small space of corridor. Before I have the chance to say anything to Morgan, the elevator door slides shut and the box disappears into thin air.
"You're freaking kidding me!" I say, outraged. "The secret elevator is literally on my floor!"
The guard continues to drag me to the part of the floor where the rooms are, lightly shaking as he does. Wait a minute... Is he laughing at me? I kick and push against him as he leads us down my familiar corridor, past the normal elevator, past the stairwell to the secret room, and towards the dark, fishy corridor where my room is. We stop in the middle of the corridor as my guard tries to figure out which room is mine.
"Number?" he demands, his deep voice muffled against his ski mask.
"Ha." I reply, smiling smugly against his chest. "Not so smart now are you?"
He violently kicks at the first door and it crashes open, but it's not mine. He then does the same to the next door. And the next. And the next.
"Look, can you pick the pace up a little because I kind of have somewhere to be tonight and you're kind of delaying the process." I tease, enjoying the grunt of annoyance that escapes the guard as he kicks another door down. Man, this guy is strong.
"Well if you'd give me a clue here Bumblebee, then maybe I could speed that process up for you." He replies sarcastically, making me scoff.
And then freeze.
Time stops and I gasp painfully, suddenly feeling dizzy as every kind of emotion rushes to my head. All at once it's like the combat gear has just disappeared and there, stood right in front of me, is my boy. Time starts again. Before I know it, I'm grinning like a Cheshire cat and jumping up at his ridiculously tall body. He catches me easily, wraps my legs around his waist, and pulls the stupid ski mask off of his face, revealing the same face that has been clouding all of my dreams for the past few days. The same soft caramel skin, the same sculpted nose, the same sharp jaw, the same high cheekbones, the same dark shaped brows, the same piercing green eyes, the same tousled ebony hair that falls messily into his eyes. It's Lorrie. He pulls me closer into him with his strong arms and squeezes me so tight against his body that everything inside of me threatens to burst into a thousand pieces. I thread my fingers through his soft hair, his shaved sides, and breathe in his familiar smell of leather and petrol, mixed in with a minty smell of gum, not releasing my tight grip on him in case he disappears.
"Number baby." He says quietly, releasing the cage of butterflies in my chest that I forgot was there.
"End of the hall, two fifty." He sets off walking before I've even finished, holding me close to him as he does. When we reach my door, he doesn't waste a second kicking the handle in before stepping inside and pressing me up against the wall. With my legs still around his waist and my fingers still running through his hair, he kicks the door shut beside us and presses his forehead against mine, releasing the longest sigh of relief that I've ever heard.
"I love you." I say, touching his face, his shoulders, his chest, his arms, letting my hands run free on their own accord. He smiles, instantly healing every wound inside of me that has been torn open since we've been apart.
"I love you." He replies, not wasting a second more before he dips his head down and kisses me.