His [The Cellar sequel]

It's a day early but I finished and Ashton's napping so thought I'd upload...enjoy

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Prologue

Clover's POV

The warm air hit me as I stepped outside, the bright light stinging my eyes for a brief moment. I hadn't been outside in months. Filthy metal handcuffs cut into my wrists as the police officer pushed me towards the van.

I was being transferred to high-security psychiatric hospital. After being assessed for weeks on end it was decided that I have a personality disorder. I tried to explain that my mental health was absolutely not an issue but they all seem incapable of understanding even the simplest things. I told them very clearly why I did all of those things but they just didn't get it. Apparently we weren't to take the law into our own hands. That was the issue though, the law, it let those people parade around ruining other's lives and dirtying the world. I wouldn't have to act if they'd done something about it.

Every single one of them was incredibly frustrating and close minded. Not that it mattered though, I always knew that no one would see the good in what I do, that someone needed to take control of a situation that was already completely out of hand.

"Move it along," the officer growled. Rudely, he hadn't offered his name.

I was forced into the back of the police van like a dirty criminal and chained to the metal bench. To each side of me there was an officer. The one to my left wiped his nose on the back of his hand, making bile rise in my throat. Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I concentrated on the girl's beautiful faces to calm myself.

This was going to be torturous, just like the pervious place, daily therapy sessions and the constant offer of many medications. I hated every single second of being there. What I hated most was being treated like I was insane. If they were looking for insane they should look a little closer to home, the ridiculous laws and justice system were a joke. I was doing something about it; I should be praised not sectioned.

"How long until we arrive?" I asked the plump, balding officer sitting beside me. Instead of answering like any normal human, he mumbled something about remaining silent and leant back against the seat lazily. I was surprised he managed prise himself out of his bed this morning.

Just as I was about to try asking the other officer and seeing if he was slightly more polite, the van swerved to the right, almost throwing me from the seat. I gripped hold of the seat as I was jerked forwards. My heart was pounding in my chest. What was going on? With a loud bang, darkness consumed me.

I groaned, blinking hard, my vision started to focus again. Ignoring the intense pounding in my head, I pushed myself up so I was sitting. The balding officer was now laying face down, either unconscious or dead. The other man was definitely dead, his body was completely still, his eyes open but rolled to the back of his head slightly.

The handcuffs still firmly held me to the bench, making it impossible to break free. I could waste minutes, hours, trying to pull my hands out of handcuffs, but I know from personal experience that it wasn't going to happen.

I had two choices. Wait here until we were found, and I would be escorted to the Unit. Or, find a way to get out, and get my flowers back. To me, the choice was easy, I needed my girls.

My head was pounding and pain was shooting up my shoulder, I could barely move my arm, it was definitely dislocated. The key to unlock the handcuffs would be on the chain of the officer lying just a few feet away from me. I hissed through my teeth as I reached out towards his pocket, the pain in my arm almost too much.