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Not that any of us were looking there.
Not when faced with what was right in the middle of the room.
Or, rather, who.
Right there, bound to a steel support beam by a tight chain around his wrists that had his shoulders arching backward into the beam, was a man.
He was slumped on the floor, exhaustion, dehydration, and pain likely making it impossible to stay on his feet any longer.
His head was slumped, and all I could see of his face was a straight nose, and a mass of thick brown hair, though some of it was matted down to his head with thick dried blood.
There was more blood on his shirt, down his arms, on the chains behind his back, on the floor around him.
And there, just a few feet from the man’s leg, was a molar.
“Matej,” Elio exhaled, eyes wide, as he looked down at the man.
At the sound of his voice, Matej’s head shot up, wincing at the light, and blinking before he seemed to focus on Elio.
“Elio?” Matej asked, something suspicious in his voice. Like he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
I don’t know what I expected of Matej. But I guess I figured he would be older. But I would put him at about Elio’s age, maybe just a little older than Anthony. With classically handsome features—high cheekbones, a sculpted, narrow jaw, warm brown eyes with thick lashes and full brows, and facial hair that was more than a five o’clock shadow, but less than a full beard. Though, it was getting closer now, likely thanks to being held down here for an unknown period of time.
“Matej, the fuck?” Elio asked, tucking away his gun. “Where’s the key?” he asked.
“Work table,” Matej said, voice rough. As he spoke, his dry lips cracked in a way that I swear made my own ache.
“I’m going to get him some water,” Anthony said.
“I’ll come,” I offered. “Keep an eye,” I added, looking toward Elio, who gave us a nod as he located the key, and moved toward the other man.
“This is not great,” Anthony said, moving up the stairs, but pausing at the landing to look around before stepping onto the main level.
He grabbed some paper towels, using them to open the fridge, then grabbed two sports drinks and several cheese sticks.
“We should get him some clothes,” I said. At Anthony’s blank look, I shrugged. “You smelled it down there,” I reminded him. “He hasn’t been unchained even to go to the bathroom.”
“Right,” he agreed. “But let’s be quick.”
With that, we made our way upstairs where I located a sweatshirt and some sleep pants, as well as some bath wipes in a bathroom drawer filled with female products. I grabbed them as I said a little prayer that no innocent woman had been wrapped up in this mess before following Anthony back down to the basement.
Anthony rushed forward, twisting the top off of the blue sports drink, and handing it to Matej, who seemed to be struggling even to hold the bottle to his lips as he gulped it down.
He chased it with the red sports drink before devouring the cheese sticks in just two big bites each.
“Fuck, Matej, how long have you been down here?” Elio asked.
“I don’t even know what day it is,” Matej admitted, a slight accent in his deep, smooth voice. When Elio rattled off the date, Matej seemed to pale as he sat on the floor, holding onto the empty bottle of his drink.
“Seven days,” Matej admitted. “The first five, I had… visits,” he admitted, gesturing to his face. “Had one bottle of water to keep me alive,” he went on, suddenly looking at his jeans, stiff with dried urine.
“Here,” I said, moving forward to press the clothes onto a clean spot on the floor near him, then setting the wipes down on top of them. “I’ll step out,” I added as his grateful gaze lifted to mine, making my heart ache for him. For what he’d been through. For what he surely knew he’d lost.
I moved just inside the door on the other side, not wanting to miss anything if the men talked, but all I heard was the shuffling as Elio and Anthony helped Matej up and, I imagined, had to assist him in undressing, given how weak he was.
“Saylor,” Anthony called a few moments later.
I moved back in, finding Matej dressed in the clothes I’d gotten for him, a pile of bath wipes on the floor where he’d been standing, though Anthony and Elio had moved him over to a rusted old folding chair, so he could rest.
