Assassins: Slow Agony Part 34

"f.u.c.k you," Griffin said in a strangled voice.

"But that wasn't why I liked you. It was a nice bonus, of course, because it made you appealing to other people, people who cared about things like that. You were easy to trade out, to use to get things I wanted." Marcel reached out and caressed Griffin's cheek.

Griffin gritted his teeth.

"But I liked you because there was a spark. Something very independent. And I thought you'd be a challenge. I wanted to make you mine. That was all. I would have done it, too, Griffin. But I got interrupted. You got in that fight, you got pulverized, and they took you away. I didn't think I'd ever see you again. But I never forgot about you. I always wanted to finish what I started. And now I have the chance."

Oh Jesus, he couldn't be serious. What was he going to do to Griffin? What was he going to do to me? How could someone this horrible exist?

"No," rasped Griffin.

"No?" Marcel got up again. "Maybe I'll make blondie mine first then. Would you like to watch that, Griffin? I bet I can make her scream until she loses her voice."

Griffin stood up. He wrapped his blanket around his waist like a towel. "Don't you dare touch her."

Marcel raised his eyebrows. "Then you'll turn yourself over to me."

"Griffin," I said. "Don't listen to him. You don't have to do anything. I can handle-"

"Oh," laughed Marcel, "you're so sweet, aren't you? Ready to sacrifice yourself for him?" He crossed to me, reached out, and tugged on my blanket.

It slid down, exposing me. Revulsion and fear shot through my body.

"Stop," said Griffin. "I'll do whatever you want."

"That was easy," said Marcel. He stuck out his lower lip. "Too easy, I think. I was looking forward to playing with blondie a little more."

Griffin yanked my blanket back into place, covering me again.

"Did I say you could touch her?" Marcel took out his knife. The blade flicked out. "Stay back."

"Just take me," said Griffin. "You've got me. Let's get it over with."

Marcel smiled. "Okay, then. That's more like it. Hold out your arms."

Griffin did it.

"No," I said.

He wouldn't look at me.

Marcel had rope in his back pocket. He lashed Griffin's hands together. "Let's go." He dragged Griffin up the stairs, throwing over his shoulder, "Hold her until I'm gone. If she struggles, you can shoot her in the head."

Even with that warning, I struggled anyway. I did get shot in the head. When I came out of being dark, I was lying on the bas.e.m.e.nt floor and my blanket was not covering me in a very modest way. I felt disgusted.

But I didn't pay it much mind, because I knew that Griffin was going through so much worse.

He was gone for most of the day. As the hours wore on, I began to hear noises above me. Agonized, throaty screams. Jeering laughter.

What were they doing to him up there?

Marcel had said that what he did to Griffin wasn't about s.e.x, but I got the impression that Marcel would use whatever means he could to break Griffin down. Which meant that Griffin was probably being...

No.

Maybe I wouldn't think about it. Maybe if I didn't think about it, it wouldn't be real.

That wasn't logical, but I was beginning to think that I might be going crazy. After everything that had happened to me lately, I almost wanted to go crazy. It hurt too much inside my head. I could hardly handle existing anymore.

And Griffin. My poor, sweet Griffin. Was there going to be anything left of him?

What if they did kill him?

They wouldn't need me anymore, then, would they?

"No," I said out loud. "We're not going to think this way."

We?

Was there someone else here with me?

I really was going crazy.

But I knew it was true that it couldn't be good for me to sit around and brood. I needed to do something.

I wrapped myself in my scratchy blanket, and I began to take inventory of the bas.e.m.e.nt. I went through all of the boxes in the corner. There wasn't anything in them except a really big spider, which gave me the creeps.

I managed to keep myself from screaming. Spiders were horrible, but they were an irrational fear, and I needed to stay sharp. I needed to be strong.

Griffin needed me.

Above me, there was a strangled yell.

I closed my eyes. I wanted to cry.

No. I needed to find a way out.

There had to be something I could use down here.

I went over to the washer and dryer. I looked inside them. They were empty. The hose was next to them. I contemplated the hose for a while. Was there any way I could spray Marcel and his men into submission or use the hose to strangle them or something?

After considering several different ridiculous scenarios, I gave up on the hose. It wasn't going to help.

In desperation, I climbed the steps again. Maybe they'd accidentally left the door at the top unlocked.

But they hadn't.

However, when I was standing at the top of the steps, I suddenly remembered the thing that I couldn't remember before. What Naomi had said about the door.

We were standing at the top of the steps, in her hallway, which was where the door to the bas.e.m.e.nt was located.

"I don't know where this door came from," she said. "It's like an outside door, do you see what I'm saying?" She pointed to the door k.n.o.b, which had a keyhole on it, unlike a regular door to a room inside.

"Oh yeah," I said. "That's weird."

"Right," she said. "I think maybe it used to be the main door. Like, I can tell where they put an addition on the house, and I think this was the old door. They put on a new one, but they stuck this one here."

I considered. "Could be."

"But that's not the messed-up thing about it," she said. "The messed-up thing is that it locks itself sometimes."

I laughed. "Naomi, doors don't lock themselves."

"Yeah, well, explain to me how I've ended up in the bas.e.m.e.nt in my nightgown with bare feet while I'm doing laundry, locked down there. Do you think I lock myself down there?"

"Wow. That does sound messed up."

"It happened three times before I decided I need to keep a key in the bas.e.m.e.nt," she said. "So, if you're ever down there, looking at my empty plant hook, and you're locked in, just reach up on top of the ledge above the door."

"It's not a plant hook," I said, laughing. "It's too dark down there for plants."

She shut the bas.e.m.e.nt door. "I'm afraid what locks me down there are ghosts, and they're going to steal the key."

I was still laughing. "There are no such things as ghosts. Come on."

I got up on my tip toes. I slid my hand over the ledge at the top of the door.

At first, I felt nothing but dust and cobwebs.

I kept running my fingers over it.

And there it was. The key!

"Thank you, Naomi," I said. "If you're a ghost somewhere, thank you. Thank you so much."

I clutched it, smiling hugely. Ha. It might not be dangerous to bring us to Naomi's house, but it was incredibly stupid. I'd finally got one on up on Marcel. We were going to get out of here, and he was going to pay.

I fitted the key into the lock.

And then I stopped. What was I planning here? Was I going to rush out there in my blanket, find Griffin, and then rescue him from Marcel and all of his men? There were at least four other guys here. I didn't even have a weapon. No, it didn't make sense to rush into this.

I needed to be smart. I'd wait until later. When it was night. At least some of them would have to be sleeping then. That would give me a better chance of getting us out. I couldn't chance mistakes. Neither of us could bear to be here for too much longer. Everything was too horrible.

Sometime in the early evening, they kicked open the door, and Griffin tumbled down the steps.

He landed at the bottom. I heard his flesh thud against the concrete, but he didn't make a sound.

I went to him. When I touched him, I realized he was dark. His skin was pasty and cool.

Wait. Was he dark or dead?

I checked his neck. It hadn't been hurt.

Everything else had, though. He was covered in cuts and bruises. They hadn't bothered to send the blanket down with him. He was completely naked. His skin had been carved into, the same symbol that was tattooed onto this chest-over and over. All over his torso, his legs, his arms, his face.

He had two black eyes. His lips were busted open and swollen.

He was smeared with crusty, dried blood. I wondered how many times they'd cut him open. How many times he'd healed before they did it again.

I backed away from him, trembling.

I'd known it was going to be bad. But this... Seeing him so ruined and used. It was...

I couldn't breathe, I was so angry.

This was Griffin. My Griffin. I never wanted him to hurt. I wanted to do anything I could to keep him safe. And these b.a.s.t.a.r.ds had hurt him so badly that I hardly recognized him.

I clenched my hands into fists. Part of me wanted to tear up the stairs, howling in rage. I felt so much hatred at that moment, I was sure I had the strength to rip them all apart with my bare hands.

But then Griffin twitched.

He was healing.

I wrapped him in my blanket, and I was able to scoot him across the floor that way. He was far too heavy for me to carry myself.

I perched over him, watching as he slowly knit himself back together. He healed before my eyes. Within fifteen minutes, you'd never know how badly he'd been hurt. Of course he was still covered in old blood, but there was nothing I could do about that, short of hosing him down, and I wasn't going to expose him to that.

Finally, his eyes opened.

At first, I don't think he could focus on me.

But then his eyes locked on mine. "Doll."

"Griffin, I remembered where Naomi kept the key to the bas.e.m.e.nt," I said. I held it up. "See? I have it. We're going to get out of here."

He looked at the key, but he didn't seem to understand what I'd said. At least, he didn't react to my words.

I plowed on. "We have to wait until later. When they're all asleep, we're going to sneak out. Okay? So, you have to be ready. I know you must be..." What? Was there some kind of word I could use to describe how he was feeling now? I didn't think there was a word.

His gaze fluttered over me. He was lying on the blanket, so I was naked, hugging my knees to my chest, holding out the key. "Won't let him hurt you."

Oh, G.o.d. Was he even in there?

"Griffin? Do you hear what I'm saying?"