Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“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.
“Matej, this is Anthony and Saylor. Friends of mine,” Elio told him. Matej gave us each a slight nod before looking back at the familiar face in the room. “What the fuck happened here?” Elio asked.
To that, a muscle ticked in Matej’s jaw. Anger. But it conflicted with the raw pain in his warm eyes.
“My brother,” Matej admitted, shaking his head. “I was sleeping upstairs,” he said, eyes far away as the memories came back to him. “I heard the screams,” he said, lower lip quivering. Pain or anger? That was anyone’s guess.
I imagine he’d woken up to the horror scene happening in the kitchen.
“It went on for so long,” he said, closing his eyes. “So much screaming as I got my gun and started downstairs. When I heard a shout, a shot, then… nothing. The silence… fuck,” he said, sucking in a deep breath.
There was a moment of silence, the man lost in his grief, before he continued. “There was nothing I could do down there. I started back up. That’s when they came running…”
“What about the bedroom upstairs?” Elio asked. The sheetless bed with the massive bloodstain in the mattress.
“Karel,” Matej recalled. “Passed out drunk. Didn’t hear anything. Didn’t, I hope, feel anything, either,” he said, swallowing hard. “Not like Petr and Jan,” he went on, head hanging, but his hand lifted to wipe a tear off of his cheek.
Elio moved closer, grabbing the man’s shoulder, squeezing, offering silent sympathy as I felt unexpected tears flooding my own eyes.
I wasn’t typically an emotional woman. But I’d been in that kitchen. I’d seen the horrors that those two men had known in their final moments. If that didn’t make you a little emotional, you were a monster.
Ever observant, Anthony reached out, sliding an arm around my lower back, his fingers digging into my hip, offering comfort without making me feel weak for needing it.