Page 20 of Fervent

“You didn’t find a gun on him?”

“No.”

Stepping into the hall was blinding. After spending days in total darkness, the light seared my eyes. I glanced up and down the tunnel, in disbelief that it was actually empty. Clinging to Rafe’s hand, I followed him down the passage toward the office, acutely aware that we were naked, and that at any given moment someone could discover us and send our hope for survival crashing through the ground.

“Maybe we should go the other way,” I whispered, a tremor taking my voice hostage.

“The office is this way. I’m hoping to find a gun in that room.” His fingers flexed around mine.

We approached the last door just as another opened somewhere down the tunnel. I held my breath as Rafe tried the knob and turned it without resistance. We scurried inside, and the flashlight lit up the office in weak illumination. Rafe made a beeline for the interior steel door Lucas had come through on my first night here.

“There’s a fucking keypad.” He leaned his forehead against the steel with a loud sigh. “Fuck!” He turned, and I felt the weight of his stare through the darkness. “How well did you know Lucas? Any guesses at the code?”

Biting my lip, my gaze veered toward the ceiling, trying to remember anything of significance. “His birthday is October twenty-eighth.”

“What about the year?” He turned back to the keypad and punched in some numbers. “I doubt he’d use his birthdate though.”

“He was born in 1969.”

“Of course the bastard was. Fuck, Alex. He’s old enough to be your father.”

“I was desperate and…stupid.” Shaking my head, I rounded the desk and began pulling drawers open. “Shine that thing over here.”

He joined me and aimed the light into the drawers, but they were mostly empty, only housing stray pens, paper, and sticky notes. The filing cabinets underneath the poster-sized photos of the blonde were locked with no key in sight. Even the desk’s surface was free of clutter. No phone, no computer, not even a letter opener we could use as a weapon.

This room was a shell of an office. A sham, much like its owner. No wonder the door hadn’t been locked. The paintings, the shelves with art and antiques, the humongous desk—they were all props to give off an intimidating vibe to whoever set foot in this room.

Rafe met my eyes, and even in the dim light, I detected the heart-wrenching defeat in them. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to tell me that he was losing hope, giving in to the bleakness of our situation.

“Okay,” he said, backing away from the desk. He turned around and aimed the light at the shelves. “The guy I took down will wake up soon, we can’t call out for help, and there’s Jack shit in here to use as a…

He swerved the beam, stopping on the whips, paddles, and restraints. As he shot across the space, I headed in the direction of the heavy-looking vase on the other shelf.

It didn’t weigh as much as I’d hoped, but it was better than nothing. Or was it? I eyed the bulky ceramic piece and wondered how much strength it would take to knock someone out with it.

Rafe pulled out a set of handcuffs with a sigh. “How long would you guess the tunnel is?”

“Long, at least thirty minutes to reach this end.”

“Damn,” he said with a sigh.

“There’s nothing but forest out there, Rafe. We walked quite a ways before entering the tunnel.”

“We’ll worry about out there once wegetout there.”

But his tone wasn’t one of hope. He didn’t think our chances of reaching the other end were good, and if this door was anything to go by, we’d probably find another keypad at the other exit too.

“Can we fight our way out of here?” I asked. “What about the other hostages? Maybe we can free them and fight our way out as a group.”

“We don’t know how many there are, or the extent of their injuries.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to leave anyone behind, but you’re my only concern right now. I’m getting you out, then we can get help for the rest.”

We both glanced toward the door. First, we needed to make it down that tunnel.

Rafe took the vase from my shaking hands and placed it on the shelf. “I can do more damage with the flashlight. Hold on to these though,” he said, holding the cuffs out to me. “They might come in handy.”

I nodded with a hard swallow, and we both sent a longing look at the door with the damn keypad blocking our escape.

“Stay close, baby.”

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