Page 126 of Hawk
A moment later, the door to the room opened and someone stepped inside. I couldn’t make out their face in the weaning light, so I gripped onto the hanger, praying it did what I needed it to. The small figure closed the door and leaned against it with a heavy sigh.
“Assholes,” said a girl’s soft voice before she flicked the switch on the wall, flooding the room with a dull light.
She went to move toward the bed when I made a small movement and she gasped as she turned to see me leaning against the wall. Her eyes grew wide, and she looked over her shoulder to the closed door before slowly approaching me. She was small, but from her face, she looked to be in her late teens. Cautiously, I laid the hanger down across my lap and held my hands up, glancing back to the door before bringing my gaze to her.
She kneeled in front of me and almost silently whispered, “Are you the one those bikers are looking for?”
“My name is Stella. We have to get out of here,” I returned just as softly, and she pinched her lips before looking back over her shoulder. “What’s your name?”
She glanced over her shoulder again and was silent as we listened to the three of them talking in another part of the house. They weren’t yelling anymore, and I worried they were devising a plan to deal with me before the Death Hounds found us.
“I’m . . . I’m Carla,” she said, and I reached my hand out to her.
Reluctantly, she took it, and I spoke softly but quickly. “I can take you with me, but we have to go soon.” She started to shake her head, and I looked to the bed before locking eyes with her. “Whatever’s happening here, you deserve better, and I know a group of people who can help you.”
“What do you know about it?” she spat softly at me. I had to get this young woman on my side before they discovered I was awake.
“I know what it’s like to be forced to do something you don’t want to do and feeling helpless to stop it. I know what it’s like to dream of a night where someone doesn’t crawl into bed with you and make you do things you would never do.” Pausing, I wiped away a tear as I said, “I know what it’s like to want to escape.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she scooted closer so I could hear her better. “Will you really take me with you?”
“I cross my heart. You’ll never be alone again, I swear to it.”
Carla stood and walked to get the small backpack she carried in and picked it up from its spot on the dirty floor. She placed her ear to the door and held her index finger to her lips, reminding me to be quiet as she listened. When she was satisfied, she came back to where I was resting against the wall and handed me her bag.
I offered her a small smile as I opened the bag. Inside was a steak knife that looked like it came from a chain restaurant. The wooden handle was cracked and half of it was missing, but the blade was at least six inches long and serrated.
My eyes bounced up to her as she explained, “I’m tired of all this. I . . . I was going to . . .”
“Never alone again,” I reassured her, and she took a deep breath before nodding to me.
“What do we do?” she inquired.
I tried to push up from the floor, but I was exhausted and worried I had a concussion. The nap earlier wasn’t a good sign, but I couldn’t worry about that right now. Carla helped me stand, and I brushed some garbage from the back of my pants as I tried to get a good grip on the knife.
“Do you have an old shirt and a hairband?” I asked, and she quickly retrieved the requested items.
Using the knife, I split the shirt into thick strips and began to wrap the handle with them, then I secured the material with the two hairbands she gave me. I stepped closer and noticed faint bruises all over her arms, and the rage inside me grew.
“How many people are out there?” I asked, and she held up three fingers. “Do you know where they are in the house?”
She found a scrap of paper on the floor and located a pencil in all the garbage. Faster than I expected, she drew a crude map of the house, showing where we were and the room they were in. With any luck, we could sneak out the front door without them seeing us. Then, it was matter of finding any of the Death Hounds riding the area and we were saved.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Portstill,” she replied, and for once, luck was on my side.
“Where in Portstill?”
“The Flats. Avenue J.”
I was warned about the Flats when I arrived. Elise had told me about how her dad’s brother had kidnapped her and taken her to the Flats, and what she had to do to survive. The other ladies had warned me that the Death Hounds compound was the last thing before the road leading into the Flats, so that meant we weren’t too far from safety.
“Carla, why’s your light still on?” the other man suddenly asked, and she began to tremble.
She ran and turned it off, shaking as she responded, “I was getting ready for bed.”
“Then get ready and get to bed. You’ve got company in the morning.” The asshole laughed as he walked away, and I immediately moved closer to Carla.
