Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Still, it was her only hope. She dialed 911 and waited. The phone rang a couple of times and then crackled before a little chirp on the line let her know the call had dropped. She tried a couple more times with no better results.
She heard the bolt moving behind her and panicked, quickly tucking the phone back into her bra. The door opened to reveal the same guy as before with a paper bag in his hands.
“Lunch arrived early. Here’s a sandwich and some chips. There’s another bottle of water in there,” he said.
“How long am I going to be here?” she asked again.
“Not too long. A day or two at most. Don’t worry. I’m not a sadist. This is just a job. I retrieve you and I get paid. I’ve no intention to harm you, but I’m not going to let you con me either. Enjoy your lunch,” he said, closing the door again.
“Hey, wait. Can I get some light in here? A lamp? A candle?”
“Sorry, don’t have anything. I’ll see if I can find you something you can’t use against me before I come back later.”
“Thanks,” she said.
She pulled the sandwich free of the bag and began eating it, contemplating how she was going to get out of here. The phone had been her only hope, but unless she could somehow get a better signal on it, it was useless to her. She pulled it free again, deciding she might as well use the light on it so she could at least see what she was eating.
Opening the screen, she was surprised to see several messages pop up from the carrier letting her know her new phone was active and welcoming her to her new plan. She realized that perhaps she couldn’t call, but she might have enough signal to text someone. The only problem with that was, who would she text? No one in Ireland could do her any good, and she didn’t know anyone willing to help her here.
She lay it aside, letting the light shed some light on the room around her as she finished her sandwich and ate a few of the chips. There was absolutely no way out of this room as a human. The cage was very solid and far too small for her to shift inside. There was a chance she could break the bars as she expanded, but an equal chance that she might break her own bones and be helpless while they healed instead of able to attempt any further escape.
Even if the cage did break, the door was solid metal and there were no windows. She was guessing that wherever she was had to be subterranean. It explained the total darkness and the musty smell. The trough was no doubt a part of the overall odor, but the dankness seemed to come from the walls, likely from the dirt into which the concrete blocks had been laid.
As she sat there, trying to figure out what she could do, she seized upon the one thing she could think of, the one person who might be willing to help her, despite everything. He was angry with her, yes. He’d never forgive her, but did he really hate her so much that he’d let a man like Sorley Maguire have her?
She picked up the phone and dialed his number, but got nothing, not even the rings she had gotten with the emergency number. She was down to one bar of signal. Biting her lip, she opened up the messaging app and began typing, hoping it would reach him and hoping she meant enough that he would help her somehow. She watched anxiously as the bars slipped back up to two bars and the message showed sent, then waited for a response, checking the silent phone repeatedly for any return message.
When none came, she turned the phone back off to conserve the battery and stretched the paper bag from her lunch out on the floor beside her, laying her head on it and sobbing quietly in the darkness of her cell.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Olcan
THE TRAIN STATION HAD confirmed that Niamh had gotten away fine, apparently using the money she’d gotten from the rental place to buy a ticket to Florida. She should be well on her way by now, but he was bothered by the fact that it had been so easy for him to find out where she’d gone. She’d given a different name, but she was a hard woman to overlook. A description of her had caused the ticket clerk’s eyes to light up with recognition.
“Oh, of course. Yeah. She’s quite a looker,” he had said.
“Aye, that she is,” Olcan had agreed amicably, not wanting to seem like he had any ill will toward her that might prevent him from getting what he wanted without more hassle.