redemption: harry styles

Chapter Fifty Two

The area I ended up in was so much different than the room I saw Liam in.

The walls might have been concrete once, but now someone had nailed planks together to create a wooden wall. Light simmered in from one corner behind the wood but didn't reveal much.

My body was stiff and weak, I couldn't move much. My hair clung to my neck, the heat in the room making me sweat. The room reeked of rotten wood and dirty water, I almost gagged.

I felt tired--so  tired. My arms refused to help me up, my head aching painfully, my throat so dry. It was as if I needed all of my muscles to blink.

Voices drifted through the dark swiftly, hushed voices I couldn't define much of. Men, from my judgement. I could hear one voice, pleading and screaming and growling until one of them spoke up.

"Enough!"  a voice boomed, and it sounded like someone's fist collided with someone's bloody face with a smack. "Shut the hell up! You want more? Huh?"

Someone's breathing was ragged and loud.

"Thought so," the same voice snickered. "She's here to save you, not you to her."

A voice inaudibly muttered, and I sighed tiredly. My eyes slipped shut.

The man's voice whispered something I couldn't hear, and then another voice: "Fucking try me," it breathed a second-before another whack  sounded.

Something also clicked and a loud boom  ricocheted off of the walls. I gasped and sat upright, trembling violently.

"She's awake," someone hissed.

I held my breath and hugged my knees to my chest. My ears rang from the loud noise and my muscles just wont relax.

I stood up and reached into my shoe. The knife I snuck in, strapped onto my ankle, wasn't there anymore.

"Shit," I blurted out.

A hand suddenly grabbed the back of my sweater and yanked me back. I cried out and spun, the shirt twisting in the person's grip, and lashed out with my arm. My fist surprisingly struck the person in the nose with a sickening crack, and the person--man--roared animal-like. The blow made him stumble back, and his hands flew up to his face. I hesitated until the man looked up with a snarl.

Through the dark, I could barely make out his features. His pale eyes gleaming under the silvery light from the moon streaming though cracks in the walls. Blood ran down from his nose, which was at an unusual angle, and onto his smiling lips.

My fist stung from the blow so I held it in my hand with a quiet hiss and to my chest. The man stalked forward and pulled something out from behind and pointed it at me.

"Don't make it harder for yourself," he crooned and walked towards me. My chest tightened and I cringed away when his hand touched my arm, but he clamped his hand down and dragged me away.

While I debated whether to break his nose the other way or stay calm, the voice continued to echo between the walls, hushed whimpers, frantic murmurs.

The passage was narrow, only one person can walk through it with others following behind. The man kept a tight hold on me the entire time, and even though I didn't know what I was planning to do afterwards, I tried breaking free. I failed.

The room he brought me into was the same; musky and filthy. It smelled like something died in here.

The room got larger as we neared the edge. Light loomed over the floor from an open steel door, casting a shadow of something thin.