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“You!” I growl. “Wake the fuck up!”
At first, he doesn’t respond. Hell, he’s so still that I worry he might be dead. But then I hear a low grumble escape his crumpled-over form and I rattle the bars again.
“If you want to get out of this place, you’ll show me your face.”
That seems to stir him a little more.
“Who the fuck are you?” the caged animal asks, his rugged face contorting in tired confusion as his dark brown eyes meet mine.
“I’m not here to answer any questions,” I tell him. “You’re here to answer mine. Now, tell me. Where do these fuckers keep the keys to your cage?”
I’m sure this is the man I’m looking for, but I’m not ready to ask him quite yet. Not until I’m ready.
“The guard out front…” the caged animal responds, his face still contorted with suspicion. He looks like he’s been through hell and back. His black hair is raggedy and peppered with ghostly white. His face is weathered and his beard is long and unkept. This man has suffered. But his suffering isn’t over. Not yet.
“Don’t go anywhere,” I tease, turning away from him to fetch the keys. Sure enough, they’re in the dead guards front pocket.
“It’s the big one,” my target says, before I can even ask him which one opens up his cell.
“You’re not getting out that easily,” I say, singling out the big key. “What’s your name?”
“… Castor Manolas.”
Bingo.
The middle-aged man has no hint of fear painted on his rugged face, only pain and suspicion. Grunting the whole way, he pulls his massive body up from the floor,
“Would you like to get out of here, Castor Manolas?” I ask, placing the key into the keyhole.
“… Yes.”
“Then get ready to run… if you still can?”
“I’m not that old,” he huffs, swaying on his feet a little as he stumbles towards the door.
“Good, stay close. You’re coming with me.”
“Who are you?” he asks, just as I twist the key and unlock his cage.
“That doesn’t matter. I’m here to get you out of this mess.”
“… Are you with Sophia?”
His question causes a fist to tighten in my chest, squeezing my heart as I pause and try to process the way he says her name.
There’s definitely affection there, but what kind of affection?
Before I even think about giving him back to Sophia, I’m going to find out.
But now is not the time to sit back and study Castor Manolas. That time will come when I have him in my own cellar.
“Yes,” I say. “I’m with Sophia. Now, let’s get the fuck out of here.”
26
Leo
Slamming the secret tunnel door shut behind me, I wade through the dusty memories of my past and up the basement stairs.
