Chapter 4: No Way Out

He slammed a button on the wall. Alarms blared through the basement. At the same time, an iron grate dropped from the ceiling, separating me from him. I cursed under my breath. No way out.

I spun, searching for another way out. Shit.

The grate crashed down, sparks flying as it hit the floor. I stumbled back, gun raised, but the barrier was solid steel. Whitmore grinned, safe on the other side. I pounded my fist on the bars.

“Security will be here in two minutes,” Whitmore gloated. “This time, I’ll make sure you’re dead for good!” His voice dripped with triumph. My blood boiled.

I fired at the grate, but the bullets just bounced off. Frustration burned in my chest. I was trapped.

The shots rang out, echoing in the concrete room. The grate didn’t budge. Whitmore’s laughter was the only answer. I wanted to scream.

Whitmore laughed as he headed for another exit. Bastard. I watched him disappear, rage simmering.

He disappeared into the shadows, leaving me trapped with the alarms blaring. I could hear the heavy boots of security pounding above—time running out. Panic clawed at my throat.

The girl in the cage stirred, letting out a weak moan. I turned to her and saw her struggling to open her eyes. I couldn’t leave her.

Emily’s fingers twitched, her lips moving in silent plea. I rushed to her side, kneeling by the bars. Her eyes fluttered open, glazed with pain and fear. I squeezed her hand. “I’m here.”

“Help… help me…” she whispered, barely clinging to consciousness. The words gutted me. I nodded, jaw tight.

Her voice was a thread, but it cut through the chaos. I reached through the bars, squeezing her hand. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you.” I meant it. No matter what.

I glanced at the closing exit, then at the girl. My mind whirled. Run or save her? There was never really a choice.

No time, but I couldn’t leave her. I squared my shoulders, determination burning in my chest. I’d never forgive myself if I walked away.

I muttered a curse, digging my lockpicks from my pocket. The alarms blared louder, but I tuned them out, focusing on the lock. Every second counted. Hurry.

“Hold on!” I shouted, rushing to the cage. I jammed the picks into the lock, hands steady despite the adrenaline. Emily watched me with wide, hopeful eyes. I worked fast, praying I wouldn’t fumble. Come on, come on.

The mechanism clicked, and I yanked the door wide. Emily sagged forward, too weak to stand. I caught her, lifting her gently. She weighed almost nothing—a bundle of bones and fear. My throat tightened.

She was so weak she could barely move. I scooped her up—she was frighteningly light, like a skeleton wrapped in skin. I blinked hard, fighting tears.

Her head lolled against my shoulder, breath shallow. I gritted my teeth, shifting her weight, and made for the exit. No time to lose. Move!

“Hold on tight!” I ordered, sprinting toward the exit Whitmore had used. My heart hammered, feet pounding the floor.

Emily’s arms curled around my neck, grip feeble but determined. I barreled down the corridor, every step echoing with urgency. The steel door at the far end was closing fast. I pushed harder.

The door was closing, less than half a foot left. I twisted sideways and squeezed through. The girl cried out—her arm caught in the door for a second. I yanked her free, not stopping to check for injuries.

I shoved my shoulder into the gap, forcing it open just enough to drag us both through. Emily whimpered, but I kept moving, adrenaline drowning out the pain. The door slammed shut behind us, locking the chaos in the basement. Relief flooded me. Keep running.

We emerged into a narrow corridor, a light shining at the end. Behind us, I heard footsteps and shouting—the security team was already in the basement. I pushed forward, lungs burning.

The corridor smelled of fresh paint and cold stone. I could hear men shouting orders, radios crackling. I ran faster, Emily clinging to me like a lifeline. No time to look back.

“Officer… Officer Brooks…” the girl murmured in my arms. “Up ahead… turn right… there’s an exit…” Her words were like a lifeline. I nodded, not slowing.

Her voice was barely a whisper, but I caught it. I glanced down, surprised she was still conscious. I followed her instructions, praying she was right. Please, let her be right.

I stared at her in surprise. “How do you know my name—how do you know who I am?” My mind reeled. How?

She looked up at me, eyes glassy but intent. “He… he talked about you all the time…” she said with effort. “Said you were… the only one…” My heart clenched. I pushed on.

That sent a jolt through me, but now wasn’t the time to think about it. Focus. Get out alive. Worry about the rest later. Run.

I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the exit. There’d be time for questions later—if we made it out alive. I could hear footsteps getting closer. Move.

I turned right as she said, and sure enough, there was a small door leading out to the garden. Hope flared. Almost there.

The door was barely visible, hidden behind a tapestry. I kicked it open, and we stumbled out into the cool night air. The garden was wild and overgrown, moonlight glinting off dew-soaked grass. I sucked in a breath. Freedom.

I ducked behind hedges, heart pounding. No alarms sounded outside—yet. I hopped the wall, Emily slung over my shoulder, and sprinted down the sidewalk, blending into the darkness. My car waited in the shadows, engine cold but ready. Every step felt like borrowed time.

I gently laid her in the back seat, jumped into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. My hands shook, but I forced myself to focus. We weren’t safe yet.

She curled up, shivering. I tossed a blanket over her, then gunned the engine. Tires squealed as I pulled away, headlights off until we hit the main road. “Hang in there, Emily,” I whispered.

In the rearview mirror, Whitmore’s estate was blazing with lights, like a beast awakened. The sight made my skin crawl. We’d barely made it out.

Searchlights swept the grounds, security guards pouring out like ants from a kicked nest. I kept my head down, praying we wouldn’t be spotted. The adrenaline was wearing off, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. But I couldn’t stop now. Not yet.

“What’s your name?” I asked as I drove. My voice was gentle, trying to keep her anchored. She needed to know she wasn’t alone.

She hesitated, barely able to speak. “Emily… Emily Carter… sophomore… in college…” Her voice wavered. I felt a fierce protectiveness rise up. No one would hurt her again.

“How long did he keep you there?” My voice was tight, anger simmering. I gripped the wheel tighter.

“Three… three months…” Her voice broke. I swallowed hard, blinking back tears. No one deserved that—not ever. I clenched my jaw.

My fingers tightened on the steering wheel. I promised myself, right then, that Whitmore would pay for every minute she’d lost. Never again.

Another victim. Whitmore’s crimes were far worse than I’d imagined. Fury and guilt tangled in my chest. How many others had he hurt?