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“Really? He’s never brought a girl here before. Not that I know of at least.”
“Yeah. He’s just a…” What is Beckett to me? The word friend isn’t enough. Not after what we’ve been through together. “We’re not dating.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Brady says, letting me off the hook. “We just gotta figure out how to get you out of here.”
“Wait… you’ll help me?”’
He stares at the screen with a shrug. “I’ll probably get in a little trouble, but yeah. Sure. I’ll help you.”
I’ve heard nothing over the past few days that makes me think there’s any break in loyalty between the people in this powerful family. Wouldn’t helping me get away be going against the Brotherhood?
Tingles of uncertainty dance over the back of my neck, making tiny hairs rise on my skin. “Why are you helping me?”
Another shrug. A push of his glasses, raising them higher on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know. You just have that charisma that makes people want to do things for you.”
“I do?” I ask.
“Yeah. But we don’t really have much more time to sit here and chat about it. Let’s get you out of here.”
“How?” I glance around the room.
“Give me a minute. Let me call a buddy and get him to come take my post. There’s a way out of here. I think you’re going to like it.”
“K…”
He leaves me at the desk, stepping through a door to my right. He’s probably calling Beckett right this second. They must have some brotherhood code that makes it so there’s no secrets between them. What made me think I could trust this guy? My stomach does flip-flops while I wait. I rub my damp palms against the thighs of my jeans.
Am I better off trying to make a break for it?
My heart thumps against my chest as I flip through my limited options. Brady’s back before I can make a decision.
He flashes me a smile. “Let’s go.”
“Thanks.” I guess I’m going with him.
He leads me through the building. It's dimly lit with fluorescent lighting. Dark gray carpets, black furniture, lights from the screens flashing against the dark walls as we move.
We reach a black door. His hand goes to the silver handle, twisting it and opening the door. Inside, there's an empty room. He walks over to a wall, running his fingers over the painted brick.
"Got it." He dips his fingers into a crevice, giving a tug.
The wall moves.
"Wow. You Bachmans have tons of tricks up your sleeves, don't you?"
He flashes me a look of pride at his fancy toys. "Yeah. We're kinda cool like that. Come on. Follow me."
He leads me down a dark set of stairs.
Dust coats the back of my throat as I breathe in the stale air.
The fluorescent lights from above give the staircase a green hue.
The stairs are dimly lit, the walls and stair rail painted black like the rest of the building.
I wrap my trembling fingers around the metal rail. Down the stairs, every step covered in black carpet, my sneakers pressing into softness, my vision shrouded by the dark.
We get to the bottom of the stairs, and he takes me down a long hallway, one that looks similar to an underground bunker. Trevor was obsessed with doomsday prep shows and the metal walls of the structure of the tunnel we’re in now remind me of those underground homes.
