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Authors: Elisha Forrester
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coming down the stairs. A muscular man with tan biceps that stretched the short sleeves of a baby blue tee shirt and torn tight-fitting jeans with holes up the legs and in the back pockets turned his back to Dresden upon stepping foot in the room.
“Get out,” he said to the red-haired man.
“You’re kidding me, right?” he argued. “You’re kicking me out of here after what she did to Lynette?”
“Say one more word to me and you’re going to regret it,” the new visitor threatened. His dirty blonde hair was cut short and he wore a seashell necklace.
The first man scoffed. “You don’t scare me anymore.” He pointed to Dresden. “Kill her and I’ll have all I’ve wanted since she took Lynette out there.”
“I don’t scare you anymore, Tim?” asked the man with the hidden face. He stood eye level to the first man. Without another word, the second man, obviously in a position of power, reached his left hand upward and ripped the ring from the redhead’s lower lip.
Tim howled and doubled over as his blood dripped down his chin and on the floor.
“Lyle,” called the second man to the top of the stairs. “You and Brent get down here now.”
“No,” pleaded Tim. He fell to his knees and Dresden looked on in horror at the chunk of skin hanging limply from his mouth. “I won’t make it two days. Please.”
“Two days?” laughed the standing man. “You’ll be lucky to make it two hours .”
The door at the top of the stairs opened but did not slam. Two middle-aged men with shaved heads and veins stretching from their ripped skin approached Tim and each one grabbed one of the man’s elbows. The two men with coppery skin could have been twins. They were short and stocky with inflated muscles to overcompensate for their lack of height. Tim pleaded for his life in tears, but it did not stop the men from dragging him up the stairs and slamming the door shut once more.
The man in the blue tee shirt wiped blood from his hands to the sides of his jeans and shook his head at the inconvenience. He clicked his tongue three times before turning to her with a sneer.
“Deadly Dresden,” he snorted. “Remember when they used to call you that?”
Her heart fluttered and she felt confused. She could have sworn the room was spinning.
“Nick?”
He looked puzzled and caught off guard. “Nick? Nobody’s called me that in over a year.”
“I’m hurt,” she continued. “Please help me. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Oh my God,” he sighed. “Your voice is so annoying.” He approached the cell and picked up the bottle of water from the floor. Just as he threw the dodge ball at her earlier that day-was it that day?-he drew his arm back and chucked the bottle in her direction. It landed against her stomach and she groaned. “Drink that.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
She reached for the bottle and it took all she had to crack the seal with the twist of her wrist. Dresden drew the mouth of the bottle to her lips and guzzled the liquid so quickly that she coughed and spit up a pool of water that traveled down the wrong pipe. She gasped and licked her lips.
“Now,” he said, folding his arms across his chest, “let’s talk business.”
“Where am I?”
The strength of her vocal cords was returning.
He crinkled his honey brows. “You mean, you don’t recognize this place?” He unfolded his arms and motioned around the room with his hands at each side of his ribs. “You ordered us to build it.”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t do any of this.”
“I just sent Tim to the Rising, and you’re telling me you don’t remember any of this mess? You don’t remember Lynette or building these holding cells?”
“No.”
It pained Dresden to push her torso off the floor, but she did so quietly despite the aching in her stiff muscles. She couldn’t shake her headache or the throbbing
“Get out,” he said to the red-haired man.
“You’re kidding me, right?” he argued. “You’re kicking me out of here after what she did to Lynette?”
“Say one more word to me and you’re going to regret it,” the new visitor threatened. His dirty blonde hair was cut short and he wore a seashell necklace.
The first man scoffed. “You don’t scare me anymore.” He pointed to Dresden. “Kill her and I’ll have all I’ve wanted since she took Lynette out there.”
“I don’t scare you anymore, Tim?” asked the man with the hidden face. He stood eye level to the first man. Without another word, the second man, obviously in a position of power, reached his left hand upward and ripped the ring from the redhead’s lower lip.
Tim howled and doubled over as his blood dripped down his chin and on the floor.
“Lyle,” called the second man to the top of the stairs. “You and Brent get down here now.”
“No,” pleaded Tim. He fell to his knees and Dresden looked on in horror at the chunk of skin hanging limply from his mouth. “I won’t make it two days. Please.”
“Two days?” laughed the standing man. “You’ll be lucky to make it two hours .”
The door at the top of the stairs opened but did not slam. Two middle-aged men with shaved heads and veins stretching from their ripped skin approached Tim and each one grabbed one of the man’s elbows. The two men with coppery skin could have been twins. They were short and stocky with inflated muscles to overcompensate for their lack of height. Tim pleaded for his life in tears, but it did not stop the men from dragging him up the stairs and slamming the door shut once more.
The man in the blue tee shirt wiped blood from his hands to the sides of his jeans and shook his head at the inconvenience. He clicked his tongue three times before turning to her with a sneer.
“Deadly Dresden,” he snorted. “Remember when they used to call you that?”
Her heart fluttered and she felt confused. She could have sworn the room was spinning.
“Nick?”
He looked puzzled and caught off guard. “Nick? Nobody’s called me that in over a year.”
“I’m hurt,” she continued. “Please help me. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Oh my God,” he sighed. “Your voice is so annoying.” He approached the cell and picked up the bottle of water from the floor. Just as he threw the dodge ball at her earlier that day-was it that day?-he drew his arm back and chucked the bottle in her direction. It landed against her stomach and she groaned. “Drink that.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
She reached for the bottle and it took all she had to crack the seal with the twist of her wrist. Dresden drew the mouth of the bottle to her lips and guzzled the liquid so quickly that she coughed and spit up a pool of water that traveled down the wrong pipe. She gasped and licked her lips.
“Now,” he said, folding his arms across his chest, “let’s talk business.”
“Where am I?”
The strength of her vocal cords was returning.
He crinkled his honey brows. “You mean, you don’t recognize this place?” He unfolded his arms and motioned around the room with his hands at each side of his ribs. “You ordered us to build it.”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t do any of this.”
“I just sent Tim to the Rising, and you’re telling me you don’t remember any of this mess? You don’t remember Lynette or building these holding cells?”
“No.”
It pained Dresden to push her torso off the floor, but she did so quietly despite the aching in her stiff muscles. She couldn’t shake her headache or the throbbing
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