Chasing Catalina | Book One: Worshipping Ashes

14. | The Prey

The morning arrives, or at least I think it's morning. I've been in this fucking room for more than just a few hours- I had to have been. My wrists sting now. The constant rubbing at the rough edges of the shackles had finally bitten into my flesh, little drops of blood staining the edge of the cuffs as well as running down my arm and into my sleeves.

I have to get out of here.

I let my head fall back against the thick brick wall behind me as I stare up at the ceiling past my hands. The ceiling must be fifteen feet up, and there's no way I'm going to be able to reach the chains that hang from them. I take in a deep breath through my nose and exhale through my lips. Shaky breaths over and over, trying to contain myself before totally breaking down.

There's a slamming at the door. The latch unlocking and sliding across the metal latches and hinges on the other side of that wall. It catches my attention. Jerking my head into the direction of the door to the left of the room as it pushes open and Jakub comes back inside, but this time he comes with a rolled up piece of leather under his arm, a manila folder in one hand and in the same hand shares a coffee mug, but even I could smell the booze from here.

"Ah, you're awake."

For your information, I didn't sleep.

I don't speak in response, I just stare at him from where I'm shackled with slowly narrowing eyes. For some reason, though, just the mention of how long I had been in here got through to my brainwaves. Telling my nervous system that it needs to spread the news because my eyes had already begun to get heavy.

Jakub stares at me for a moment, lifting the mug to his lips as he sips on whatever booze he has in that damned cup, but it's a testament to how much I need something to drink. As gross as that drink he sips on smells, I need it... and he knows that based on how dry my lips were. He inhales deeply with a hum and squinting his eyes lightly.

"You've been busy I see." He says as he nods towards my wrists, turning away from me and moving towards the fireplace. Dropping the folder to the coffee table of books. A paper falling out with what looks like a photo, but I can't see what it is from where I stand. It's too far away.

I don't respond, I just continue to stare at him in disgust.

"Not talkative this morning, are we?" he smirks and shakes his head back and forth as he sets his coffee mug down on an empty spot on the coffee table. Even I was surprised he could find a spot that was open on that thing. He's in his fatigues this time. A gray-ish shirt. No... green? No... tan- It doesn't matter, and his gun holster that's attached to the hip of his tactical camo pants. The ends very meticulously tucked into his boots, shoelaces properly laced and wrapped around his ankle before being tucked into the tongue of the boot. His hair was even gelled and nicely groomed.

It's unsettling how much his hair intimidates me.

Jakub returns his eyes back to me as he takes the rolled up leather looking... thing from under his arm. My eyebrows furrow in curiosity and fear that mixed about as well as whiskey and wine. Danger lingers in my gut.

"That's alright," he pauses and unrolls it.

Tools.

Fuck... me.

My eyes focus directly at the tool in the center that he ran fingers over before pulling it from the snug little compartment in the leather bound wrap. Letting the rest of them fall to the floor before swiping it away with his foot. It doesn't matter what he was holding, all that mattered was it looks sharp and already used on some other poor bastard... and recently too based on the still wet substance that coats it.