by Brenda Trim
Lawson tugged on the chains again, trying to break free. Not that he hadn’t spent every waking moment trying to escape but the door was ajar, and this might be the only chance he’d ever get. He had to get out of this hellhole. If he had to endure one more beating or unwillingly give one more ounce of blood, he might snap.
Long ago, he stopped counting the days he’d been in captivity. By his estimation, he had been imprisoned for at least two years, maybe more. He hadn’t had a decent meal, a hot shower or a warm bed the entire time. He was fed once a day, hosed down with ice-cold water once a week and slept on the dirty mattress without as much as a sheet to keep warm.
Determined he wasn’t spending one more night in the shithole, Lawson braced his foot against the concrete wall for better leverage. Taking a deep breath, he pulled on the heavy chains. Nothing. He tried again. Not even a slight budge to the fastener attached to the wall. He placed both feet on the wall and pulled until his arm muscles felt like they would tear from the tension.
It suddenly occurred to him the guard probably had his entry card. There was a small keypad at the base of the cuffs that locked them electronically. Everything in this damn place was linked through the security system.
Wishing he hadn’t kicked the guard out of reach, he walked as far as the chains would allow. He stretched and reached for the male’s feet. Finally, his fingers touched the leather boots, and he latched onto the soles. Pulling as best he could, he finally inched the male enough to where he could grab his ankles.
Yanking him to his side, Lawson quickly searched the male’s uniform. He could finally escape if he could find the fucking card. Elation filled his heart. He desperately needed to go home. His mom, dad, brother, and sisters had to be worried sick. Did they think him dead? Were they safe? He knew others were being held captive because he heard the nearby beatings but he had no idea how many were there or if he knew them.
A curse left his lips when he found nothing in the guard’s front or back pockets. Fumbling with the jacket, it was difficult for Lawson’s large hands to search. Fuck, he was trembling with the urgency. Left side, empty. As he moved to the right pocket, a deep voice invaded his concentration.
“And what the fuck do you think you are doing?”
Lawson looked up to see Jim Jensen. The spineless, dickless, crass son-of-a-bitch in charge of this whole operation. Lawson had fantasized of strangling him with his bare hands. Five more males stepped inside his cell and Lawson’s bliss quickly deflated along with his hope of getting out of prison.
“Grab him, Kevin. Looks like our friend here has committed a crime,” Jim scoffed, rubbing his cleft chin in disapproval as he surveyed the bodies on the ground. Lawson would give a nut to punch him in that ass-shaped jaw just one fucking time.
Kevin stepped towards him and Lawson lunged, baring fangs. As the group of males slowly circled him, Lawson crouched to a fighting stance. Odds stacked against him, Lawson decided if he were going down, he would go down swinging.
Throwing a ten-dollar bill towards the cashier, Liv rushed into the nightclub, still reeling from what had happened. She was scared to death and had reached for her phone a dozen times, torn between calling her boss, or alerting the police to what she’d witnessed. Ultimately, she decided to talk to Cassie before doing anything because frankly, she was disturbed at the idea her prominent company could be involved in something so heinous.
Scanning the floor, she spotted Cassie and sprinted to the booth where she was sitting. Plopping down across from her friend, Liv grabbed the drink sitting in front of Cassie and downed it. The tequila was a blowtorch, burning a path down her throat.
“Hey, what the hell? I waited fifteen minutes to get that drink,” Cassie shouted above the loud thump of the music. “And, you’re late. I’ve had to make sorry-ass excuses to three losers hitting on me. Where you been?”
“Girl, you have no idea. Where is that damn waitress anyway? I need a bottle after what I’ve just been through.” Liv explained, perusing the club for the familiar tank top sporting ‘SUCK ME’ across the chest of overly-enhanced breasts that typically worked at Popsicles, the local hot spot in Chattanooga.
“Well, spill it. It better be good though because that was the good shit you just downed. This is not date night, and I’m pretty sure you’re not putting out for me later,” Cassie exclaimed, smacking a piece of chewing gum.
“Quit your bitchin’ and listen to me. Seriously, you’re not going to believe what just happened at work,” Liv interjected, arms flailing with animation. “I just watched two men get strangled right the fuck in front of me. Dead. Do you hear me? Dead!” As she shouted the words, she could barely believe them herself.
Brown eyes bulged as if she admitted to being a heroin-addict smoking crack in a church. “Ummm, say again? I must’ve heard you wrong, Liv. Did you say…dead?”
“Yes! Dead. Two men. Dead! Like, as in, opposite of living,” Liv shouted, spotting an employee walking towards them. When Liv realized the tits in heels was bee-lining to the table of rowdy college boys, she sidestepped into her line of vision.
“I would like a bottle of tequila. Not a glass, but the whole damn bottle. And, I can’t afford the really good stuff so keep that in mind if you expect me to pay for it. Oh, and two glasses and some limes, please.” Liv spouted and plastered what she knew had to be a deranged smile on her face, trying to appear calm even though she was about to explode with anxiety.
“Sure, hun. I got you covered. Be back in a jiffy,” the blonde bombshell replied, typing on her tablet.
Liv exhaled, trying to gain her composure and then crammed into the booth beside Cassie. Everyone in the club would probably think them lesbians but she didn’t care. She needed to talk privately with her.
“Okay, slow down and start from the beginning,” Cassie prompted and placed a comforting hand over Liv’s and smiled supportively. Liv couldn’t have asked for a better neighbor and friend than Cassie. They had been through everything together from celebrations to heartbreaks, and if there was one thing Liv could count on, it was Cassie. She was the type of friend if Liv said she needed to get rid of a body, she would grab a shovel without hesitation.
Liv recalled the first time they met. She’d been living in her home for about a week and heard pounding on the front door. When she answered, Cassie was standing there in a man’s t-shirt and nothing else, wanting to borrow honey. She later found out it was used to spread all over her and her boyfriend’s bodies. She told Cassie to keep the honey, but they became fast friends and partners in crime.
Snapping out of her memory, she gathered her thoughts before explaining the events from work. Once she started talking she couldn’t stop. She told her about the secret hallway, the shifters being held prisoner and about how the guard and other scientist had died at the hands of the man who then threatened to kill her. Odd thing was, she hadn’t believed him. His gray eyes held warmth and kindness even though he bared razor-sharp fangs.
“Holy shit! What are you going to do? Did your boss ever get back to you?” Cassie asked as the waitress, Penny, approached their table and set down a bottle of Camarena tequila, two shot glasses, and a small bowl of lime wedges on the table.
It was decent tequila. Probably going to charge double what she would pay at the liquor store, putting it a little out of Liv’s means, but at least she wouldn’t get sick or have a dreadful hangover the next day.
“Can I get you two anything else?” Penny asked inattentively, winking towards one of the guys at the table near them.
“No. We’re good, thanks,” Liv responded, and Penny quickly dashed to the muscle-head with the gorgeous smile. Turning her attention back to Cassie, Liv replied, “I have no idea. What do you think? Get the police involved? Call my boss and quit? I really need this job. Maybe the men weren’t dead but only blacked out,” Liv suggested.
Truth was, she didn’t know for sure. It happened so fast. Maybe she was wrong about them being dead.
“I
wouldn’t call the police, especially if you might be wrong. That would get you fired for sure. Here’s what I suggest. Go to work Monday and act like everything is normal. You’ll know soon enough what went down. Hopefully, you’re mistaken about PRL. Jim seemed nice enough when I met him at the picnic last year. Maybe you’ve let your imagination get the best of you,” Cassie explained as she poured each of them a shot and handed the logo-embossed glass to Liv.
Liv threw it back and grabbed a lime as her face contorted from the sharp taste. She bit down and sucked. Best combo ever. The tartness of the lime soothed her palette, and a warm buzz followed in its wake.
“You’re right. Fake it til you make it, right?” Liv quipped, pouring each of them another shot.
“I’ll drink to that!” Cassie shrilled, clinking the small shooters together.
Liv felt a vibration in her pocket and realized she was still wearing her lab coat. Okay, that was embarrassing as hell. No wonder no men had approached their table. They were the dorky lesbians getting each other off in the corner booth, she thought as she reached for her cell phone.
“Oh shit, this can’t be good,” Liv blurted as she looked at the message on the screen.
“What? Who is it?” Cassie asked curiously.
“It’s Jim. He says he needs to see my first thing tomorrow morning,” Liv breathed, staring at her phone.
She had a sinking feeling that the shit was about to hit the fan and she was standing in front of it, covered in manure.
3
“Come in,” barked Jim through the closed door to his office.
Liv cringed at the gruff voice and tried to decipher his mood. She didn’t want to be questioned about what she saw with the shifters. She’d obsessed over the encounter the night before, and the tequila did nothing but give her a headache. So much for thinking it was a decent brand. Then again, they did polish off the entire bottle.
Giving up her scrutiny, Liv opened the door and was greeted by a solemn expression. Apparently, he was ticked off. This was so not the day to arrive at work sleep deprived and hung over.
Between the incident at the lab, the drinking, and her boss’s text message, she hadn’t slept a wink. She drank three cups of coffee before leaving her apartment, hoping it would help her focus. Unfortunately, hearing Jim’s agitation, there was a high likelihood that her coffee was going to come back up.
The big question was whether Jim was aware of the possible double homicide and, more importantly, if he knew she witnessed it. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her side while her heart did an impression of a Jack in the Box, ready to pop from her chest at any moment. Sweat trickled down her spine as she walked towards his desk.
“Good morning, Jim. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” she stammered, hating the crack to her voice.
If the guy didn’t know the details from the night before then he would soon enough. Guilt must be written all over her face. She knew her expression shouted I’m hiding something in big neon letters. Evasion and subterfuge weren’t her strong suits.
Even as a child, Liv couldn’t get away with lying. One accusatory statement and she would cave, spilling her guts and confessing her sins. Of course, when she was a child her sins consisted of not brushing her teeth before bed, sneaking a cookie, or not finishing homework.
Now, she advanced to far greater crimes involving brutality and murder. She hadn’t participated but she stood by while a shifter was brutalized then watched the man retaliate, taking lives.
Oh, hell. Liv hadn’t considered what that might mean for her. Could she go to jail? She cursed herself for not calling the police. What would the police do to her for remaining silent? Did that make her an accomplice? Oh God, she was going to be arrested.
Her mind reeled with possibilities. She got stuck on the idea that Jim had given her a reprieve last night and now he was going to fire her then turn her over to the police.
Her breathing became erratic and her head spun. Crap, she needed to sit down before she passed out. The caffeinated beverage sloshed and churned in her stomach. Ugh. Thank God she hadn’t been able to eat anything substantial that morning or she’d be hurling in Jim’s wastebasket before he spoke the first word.
“Morning. I’ve been here a while but not because of you. Thank you for coming in on a Sunday. Please, have a seat,” he offered with a quick gesture to the chair in front of his desk. Liv walked to the black leather wing chair and sat down.
“I took care of that air conditioner problem you texted me about yesterday. Hope it wasn’t too difficult to work. Were you able to get anything done?” Jim continued, raising a curious eyebrow.
The stout man sat behind his large desk with arms crossed over his chest. He was big and burly, not to mention, intimidating.
Had he seriously brought her in to ask her about working in the heat? He knew better than to question her. She’d won employee of the month more times than she could remember. Shirking duties wasn’t in Liv’s genetic makeup.
Was he testing her to see what she knew? His dark blue eyes gave no clue to his inner thoughts. The man had a killer poker face and she considered suggesting he switch from playing golf to cards.
“Um, actually the heat was unbearable and I wrapped up early. It’s definitely working now,” she expressed, rubbing her arms against the chill.
It was borderline frigid in Jim’s office and a shiver ran down her spine. Admittedly, her trembles had more to do with a fear of him firing her ass and turning her over to the police.
“Olivia, I really like you, which is why you need to quit while you’re ahead,” he advised, narrowing his eyes as he leaned forward and braced his elbows on the desk.
“I’m not sure I follow you, sir,” she replied cautiously, uncrossing her legs and shifting in the chair.
Wringing her hands in her lap, Liv felt a flush stain her cheeks. Geez, she was pathetic. The urge to confess was churning in her stomach. If she didn’t purge the truth, she was certain she’d pass out.
“Let’s be frank, shall we?” he asked. “I arrived last night to find two dead men in one of the labs. You can imagine my shock and concern. This is not the sort of thing we need leaking to the media. This is a reputable company and I’d like it to stay that way. Now, why am I sharing this with you? Well, let’s just say I reviewed the security tapes from last night. You want to talk about what you saw?” Jim asked.
His tone lost its harsh edge and his eyes pinched in worry. Liv wondered if the concern she saw on his face was genuine. He didn’t seem to be upset or concerned that two men were dead. She saw no remorse from him, which was alarming.
“Mr. Jensen, I swear I wasn’t snooping around. I had been on my way to the break room when I noticed an open door. I hoped someone else was working and could help me with the air problem,” she blurted as the floodgates opened and words poured from her mouth.
“It’s okay. I’m not accusing you. You must have questions regarding the man in chains. Please feel free to say whatever is on your mind,” he coaxed with a sneer before he quickly masked his expression.
The hair on the back of Liv’s neck stood on end. She needed to proceed with caution until she figured out his real intent. Instinct said her life was at risk. From him, not the police. He knew of the abuse meted in his lab and condoned it. What did that say about her boss? Nothing good.
“Well, I’m not going to lie. Seeing that man chained and beaten was shocking, as well as, horrifying,” she murmured, knowing he’d seen her initial reaction on tape. “Why are we holding him against his will? What did he do to deserve such treatment?” she asked, hoping she hadn’t crossed any lines with her defiance.
“Are you aware that he is a shifter?” he asked incredulously as if that should explain it all.
“Yes, but that doesn’t tell me why we’re holding him prisoner,” she admitted as she stood from her chair.
Her blood raced through her veins and her temper heated, knowing this man might consider the guard’s actions
warranted. The shifter was acting purely in self-defense. Yes, he had looked more like a rabid animal but who wouldn’t be murderous under those conditions? Suddenly, her sense of self-preservation flew out the window.
“Olivia,” he interjected and stood from his chair, walking around the table to grab her hands. They were cold and clammy and without thinking she jerked them from his grip.
Narrowing his eyes, he continued, “I know you’re aware of our continued research on cancer and finding a cure for the deadly disease. That is the cornerstone of this company. That being said, we must conduct difficult experiments and research to get the answers we seek.”
Know about their cause? Of course, she did. It was one of her babies. She had thousands of hours invested in file #4467557. Not to mention she lost her grandmother to ovarian cancer when she was only ten years old. Watching her wither away and die, a shell of the woman she’d known, left an indelible mark.
Liv rubbed the birthstone ring on her left hand as she thought about her grandmother. It was the only piece of jewelry her grandmother wore, and she had given it to Liv’s mom to keep safe until Liv turned eighteen. It was Liv’s love and devotion for her grandmother that made her so determined to find a cure for the disease.
“Of course I’m aware. What does that have to do with the shifter?” she inquired, unsure of where Jim was going with this.
“We have reason to believe that shifter blood holds the key. Everyone knows they have a superior ability to heal. We’re on to something…I know it. Olivia, we could be on the verge of a breakthrough. Imagine the recognition my company, our company, would receive if we are the first to find a cure,” he boasted excitedly, grinning ear to ear.
Again, the hair raised on her neck. Something wasn’t adding up. She wanted a cure just as much as the next person but not at the expense of others. She remembered the shifter shouting at her, refusing to give blood to her or anyone else.
