Safe

Chapter 9

Author's Note: Hey! Surprise! None of Lexi's crazy/psycho /murder moment never actually happened, happy (late) Halloween! *cue evil laugh*

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Recap (this is what really happened):

She used my dad!?

I stood.

After all he had to suffer through, she gained his trust, and just dumps him!?

I took several more steps closer to her.

It was all her fault that I was here! She was the one who told Matt that I was at the hotel with Drake!

I was now staring straight into her eyes, emotionless. It was like my brain just shut down. Matt seemed amused, and Amy's expression matched mine. Blank.

I have to kill her. Simple as that. Without hesitation, I swung my fist at her, trying to mimic what I'd seen actors do in movies. Mercilessly hitting her jaw, I grinned sadistically. This was much more fun than I had originally thought! She seemed shocked, so I took advantage of her pause, pushing her to the ground.

I had my foot on her throat, ready to cut off her airway, when Matt intervened. He shoved me towards a wall, and I hit it with a smack. I thought I heard something crack, but I was too furious to care. I wasn't only furious at what Amy had done, but at everything that had happened to me. Why did I have to deal with so much shit!?

Bottling up my anger, I sat up straight, leaning against the wall. Matt helped Amy up, and she smiled flirtatiously. You've got to be kidding me!

"Anyway ladies, this," he held a hand out towards Amy, "is Amy. I expect you to be kind to her." Amy glared at me, and I had a feeling I'd get a little something extra in my food from now on.

* * * * * *
Drake's POV

I was surprised to see that the building wasn't guarded. It looked abandoned for the most part, but I decided to check the place out anyway. After all, it was nearly impossible for Michael to get the wrong address.

I stepped in and noticed first that there was an old bar in the back of the room, and several rickety, wooden tables scattered around the room. My eyes adjusted to the light, then I could see better.

I saw an old, dust covered juke box sitting against one wall. The place reminded me of Michael Jackson's Smooth Criminal music video.

I slid alongside the grubby walls, keeping a wary eye on either side of me. When I reached the bar itself, I hopped over the counter. There were dusty glass bottles hanging from the ceiling, and old looking levers (the kinds that you pull and beer comes out of a spout) under the counter. Coasters and trash littered the floors.

I pulled several of the levers downwards, and was slightly disappointed when no booze came out. I could really use some liquid courage right about now.

The third to last handle looked slightly different though. It was painted dark green, while the others were brown or black. Taking a wild guess (take note of the sarcasm) as to what would happen, I grabbed the lever firmly, and pulled it down.

The sound of well oiled gears turning broke the silence in the room, and I saw a dark hole forming in the ground. I glanced down at the hole when the noise stopped, and could make out stairs.

Cautiously, I stepped on to the top step, worried about weather or not it was rigged with some sort of booby trap. It seemed to hold my weight okay, and nothing jumped out at me, so I pulled out a flashlight, and began my long descent downwards.

It was then, the exact moment that I let my guard down, that I felt a fist connect to my side.

Grunting, I swung my fists wildly, completely forgetting about my weapons. My flashlight fell to the ground and clattered loudly; I felt my left fist hit someone in the nose. The cracking sound caused a satisfied grin to form on my face.

I felt several pairs of arms wrapping around me, and realized that they might end up taking me to Lexi. Fuming, I relaxed slightly and let them drag me down the rest dirty hallway.

They pushed open a blood red door, and shoved me inside. They quickly shut the door behind me, and I took in my surroundings.

There were obviously no windows, since we were underground, so my only escape option would be the door I'd entered, well, been shoved, through.

There were a couple other doors behind the desk in the middle of the room, but if I did have to try and escape, I didn't want to go deeper into this strange place.

Sitting at a nice, mahogany desk was Lexi's attacker. I growled in the back of my throat, and my hands curled into white-knuckled fists. Fortunately, he didn't seem to recognize me, and if he did, he wasn't showing it. He smirked, and silently waved his good arm in the direction of one of the red velvet chairs in front of his desk.

Ignoring his offer, I simply glared at him, folding my arms. Doing this, I subtly checked to see if my weapons were still in their respective places.

"Look what we found in the hallway boss," said one of the men in a gruff voice. My eyes narrowed to slits; I am not a 'what', I am a 'who!' Jeez. Some people.

"I see," he replied smoothly, glaring right back at me, with equal intensity.

"Should we...?" another began.

"You'll all wait outside, except you, Peter, Greg and Thomas. You'll check on the girls. Peter, cells one to three, Greg, cells four to six and Thomas, seven to ten," he ordered.

Girls? Cells?

The men scurried outside, and now it was just Erick, as Michael had called him, and I.

"Simmons," I snarled. He seemed momentarily surprised that I knew his name, but quickly regained his cool, and slightly arrogant-looking, composure.

"What do you want kid? I don't have all day," he growled.

"Oh but you do," I said, grinning. I sat down slowly, and pulled out my Glock from under the table.

* * * * * *

Lexi's POV (before Drake came in the warehouse)

Amy left the room, and after several moments of silence, Matt stalked forward. He ordered the other girls out, and waited a few moments for them all to leave.

Slamming the door shut and locking it, he grabbed my arm, and roughly pulled me upwards.

"Get up, whore!"

"W- what did I do?" I asked nervously. I was hoping Matt wouldn't rape me again, I was getting really sore and could practically feel the self pity and depression building up in my gut.

He pushed me against the wall roughly, and I fell against my left side.

"Why did you punch her slut!?" he yelled. Shit. I really should have thought that one through a bit more.

"I-" He cut me off my punching me in the jaw.

"Doesn't feel so good does it!?" he screamed. I felt my own, boiling blood pooling in my mouth. I shook my head, whimpering. I pushed myself as far against the wall as possible, trying to stay away from him. Even in my weakening state, I couldn't help but think about how hypocritical we were being.

"Want some more, you filthy little piece of shit?" I shook my head again.

"Yes? Wonderful," he growled.