Hunting Her

Chapter 43

The metal door of the cell slammed shut with a heavy clang, reverberating through the cold, damp walls. I glared at Hunter through the rusted bars, my heart pounding with anger and betrayal. 

Hunter stepped back from the cell, his face set in a neutral mask, but his eyes flickered with something she couldn't quite read.

"Why save my life?" Lexa demanded, her voice a low hiss. "If you're just going to let your brother get his hands on me?"

Hunter took a breath, glancing toward the door to the room. He leaned in close to the bars, his voice dropping to a whisper, barely audible over the echoing silence of the cell block. "Lexa," he began, his tone urgent but soft, "I know—"

Before he could finish, the sound of heavy boots echoed down the corridor. Hunter straightened up quickly, his expression snapping back to that same unreadable mask. One of Dominic's men appeared, his bulky frame filling the narrow hallway, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he approached.

"What's taking so long, Hunter?" the man grunted, his gaze shifting between us, clearly trying to assess the situation. "Dominic doesn't like it when things get delayed."

Hunter turned to face the man, his body blocking Lexa from view. "I was just making sure the prisoner was secure," he replied smoothly, "I wouldn't want big brother to get his knickers in a twist."

The guard seemed unimpressed as he gestured towards the exit behind him. Telling Hunter he wasn't messing around. 

"I'm coming." he said, casting one last glance towards me over his shoulder. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and before I could read into any expression he was pulling, he turned away from me. 

I listened to both his and Dominic's goon's footsteps echo until eventually I couldn't hear them anymore and I was left completely alone with my thoughts.

The hours in the cell stretched on, blending into a blur of darkness and silence. The only sounds were the occasional drip of water from somewhere above and the distant murmur of voices echoing through the stone halls. I shifted against the cold wall, trying to find some comfort in the uncomfortable position. Sleep came in brief, restless fits, haunted by half-formed dreams of what Dominic had planned for me.

When I awoke, it was to the clattering of keys and the heavy scrape of the door being unlocked. I sat up, blinking against the dim light spilling into the cell. Hunter stood in the doorway, a tray of food in his hands. Behind him, another one of Dominic's men loomed, his expression bored but watchful.

Hunter stepped inside, his face carefully neutral, just like before. He set the tray down on the small metal table bolted to the wall. The guard stayed in the doorway, arms crossed.

"Breakfast," Hunter said, his tone clipped, business-like. "Dominic wants you in decent shape for what's next." 

I stared at the food—bread, a slice of cheese, and a small tin cup of water. My stomach growled, betraying my hunger, but I couldn't bring myself to eat, to move from my spot.

"Eating might help," Hunter said softly, almost too low for the guard to hear. His back was to me as he adjusted the tray on the table, but I caught the edge of his voice. "You'll need your strength."

Before I could speak, Hunter straightened up and turned to leave, the guard stepping aside to let him pass. The door clanged shut behind them, and I was alone once more. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and forced myself to take a sip of water. 

I'd searched the cell a million times over, looking for something I could use to get out. I carefully avoided looking at the red stain painted on the middle of the cell floor, Aaron's blood. My hands had rattled every bar attempting to see whether any would come loose, I'd scoured the floor for nails or anything I could use to pry open the lock. Eventually, I lost track of how long I'd been in the cell, the minutes and hours blurring together. I had almost dozed off again when the sound of approaching footsteps jolted me awake.