Page 23 of The Devil's Dilemma
They both appeared so calm and collected. I’d bet this wasn’t the first time they’d tied people up here.
Except I’d seen a flash of something on Dante’s face. His orange eyes had glowed.
Despite my circumstances, I was drawn to his beauty.
A raw power simmered beneath the surface, like a beacon calling to me.
What the fuck was that about? I didn’t know. Our circumstances were less than ideal.
“Come on, man. I’m dying here.” Freddie’s pleas fell on deaf ears. What would they do if Freddie pissed himself?
I’d not yet looked around the room, more concerned with our predicament than where they held us.
The room was plain, utilitarian, mid-grey walls giving the impression of being in a box. The only furniture, a desk and a sofa, more than likely served a purpose, but I didn’t want to contemplate what that purpose was. A dip in the grey floor leading to a round drain definitely didn’t bode well.
The door off to the left, flush with the wall, was accessed by a keypad.
Seemed unlikely to be a bathroom.
Jesus, how long would they keep us here?
I’d not made provision for Grandpa other than this evening. Sandra would have gone home, and the carers wouldn’t arrive until morning. Normally, I’d be going home around two a.m. when I finished work. Would Grandpa be okay?
I took a shaky breath. Fuck, we were in deep shite. If Dante had any intention of letting us go, he’d have done it by now. Maybe he was teaching us a lesson, and by morning, he’d be setting us free with a rap on our knuckles and a warning not to do it again.
But that was unlikely, given he’d said nothing for a while now.
“I’m gonna fucking piss myself if you don’t let me go.” Freddie sounded desperate.
“Hold it, man. I told you not to drink so much,” Joel said.
For once, I felt sorry for Freddie, but there was nothing we could do.
“Look, let him go to the bathroom. I don’t want to sit here with the smell of piss in the room,” I said.
Dante tore his eyes away from his screen and looked at me.
“Why do you care? Surely you’ve more important things to think about. Your grandpa, maybe?”
“I beg your pardon.” How did he know I’d been thinking about him?
He switched his gaze back to his computer.
Soon enough, the unmistakable aroma of fresh piss hit my nose and Freddie’s sobs filled the silent room.
“For fuck’s sake, pull yourself together,” Joel murmured. Freddie had always been the weaker of the four of us. Joel invariably looked out for him more than me and Pete. I didn’t mind. Freddie had had a harsh upbringing.
A life of humiliation and parental abuse. It’d been a wonder social services had not removed him, but people like Freddie often slipped through the cracks. It wasn’t like he had been at school long enough for anyone to investigate further anyway.
“Freddie, everything’s going to be all right. A little longer. Be strong,” I whispered.
I shifted. My arse was getting numb from sitting in this stupid fucking chair.
“What do you want from us?” Joel asked.
Dante pushed back his chair, the legs scraping along the cement floor, and walked over to us.
“I want to know who put you up to this. This wasn’t some random job by amateurs. And that’s what you all are. Amateurs. You’re not fit to play in the big leagues. Petty theft, a few assault charges, but nothing on this scale.”