I n d o м ι т a в l e

(27)

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"...There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover's whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad."

― Homer

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{Chapter: 27}

Unedited ✖

{ A S P E N M O N T G O M E R Y }

Escaping a concrete box through a no-handled concrete door proves to be slightly more difficult than I'd first considered.

My only source of light was the single flickering light bulb in the center of said concrete box, leaving the corners of the chilly room a gloomy gray color, dark enough I cant quite see and giving the so called shades plenty enough of space to keep an eye out on me and strike without notice. The window provides no access luminosity thanks to something on the apposite side of the square shape of glass, a block or piece of fabric keeping out any light.

But aside from absolutely nothing going my way at the moment, I got to eat.

Athena had come back an hour or so after the moment with Sam holding plate with a ham and cheese sandwich, a bowl of cold macaroni and a glass of water. Although I'd paused at the thought that it could possibly be poisoned, I quickly trashed the idea. If they wanted to kill me, Sam would have finished the job hours ago.

Speaking of Sam and I's encounter, I can already feel the bruising beginning to take affect around my neck. My voice is hoarse, probably thanks to internal bruising and his finger prints lodged into my spinal cord at the base of my neck.

The thought of hitting him repeatedly over the head with a sledgehammer sounds even more appealing now than it did when he was choking me. Fortunately, the option is still on the table; after I escape.

I've been plotting an escape plans for at least three hours now after I woke up from a dreamless sleep, contemplating the easiest and most reliable scheme to split from this place, but everything I come up with seems too impossible.

I have no idea whether my little concrete receptacle is placed inside a house, underneath a house, or just thrown somewhere out in the boonies. I don't carry a map in my back pocket or a campus on my wrist, so even if I do manage an escape route, I'd have zero knowledge of how to get back to Grimwater.

Unless I never left. I know now that the man who kidnapped me is the Alpha of a neighboring pack to Nicholai, which means the border shouldn't hopefully be too far from where I'm at. But honestly, the odds of me being set smack in the middle of Sam's territory is fifty-fifty.

But I know that if I even have a chance of getting out of here, I at least have to try, and hope that Grimwater (or the pack house) is somewhere remotely nearby. Again, the chances are fifty-fifty. Maybe even sixty-to-forty. But first things first, I have to figure out how to escape this suffocating concrete box.

I take a deep breath and tug at my cotton blue shirt, the color standing out against the gray zip-up hoodie thrown over my shoulders. I fidget with my faded black skinny jeans nervously, wishing I had a watch or some sort of clock to tell me what time it was.

The loud sound of the bolt lock on the door sliding open has me jumping to my feet.

I hold my breath.

Athena wrenches the heavy door open and steps through the archway, a placid expression resting against her pastel features.

I let out an inaudible sigh of relief.