Broken: Round One (Broken #1) (2 page)

BOOK: Broken: Round One (Broken #1)
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“Hey!” I try again. This time, my voice comes out less confident and more uncertain.

To my left something scatters, sending my heart into my throat. Suddenly out of breath, I squeeze my busted tablet closer to my chest and swallow hard as the stranger slows to a stop and peers to the left. I hold my breath while he turns, confused. Then, he spots me and he pulls his brows together, making shadows pool in the hollows of his face.

He’s dangerous.

That much is clear.

In a slow movement, he reaches for the cord to his ear buds, and with a swift tug they fall. When all of his attention is on me, I notice immediately that the light shining down from an emergency post offers no real service. If I had to pick this man out of a police line-up tomorrow, I’d have no idea. The shadows make it impossible for me to get a proper look at his face.

I clear my throat in an attempt to drag up some confidence. “You broke my—”

He shoots forward and I squeal, dropping my tablet. The stranger’s large, heavy hands grab my shoulders and he shoves me to the side. I stumble and squeeze my eyes shut. I expect to slam into the large, metal warehouse beside me, but instead he catches me again, his fingers digging into the flesh on my arm with bruising pressure. He slams me into the warehouse and I grit my teeth, keeping my eyes tightly closed. My spine aches against the rigid metal and all I hear is the sound of my heart hammering relentlessly in my ears. Amongst it, I think I hear my brain chastising me, calling me an idiot.

“Are you out of your mind?” he bites out.

My lips part and I splutter as I open my eyes. I take in the man’s dark features, each curved in anger. His full lips purse over gritted teeth and his nostrils flare. I remain frozen with fear, paralyzed by the man who holds me against the wall. I don’t know this man. I don’t know his triggers or his intent. One wrong word or move and my life could end. His irises, their color undistinguishable in this light, flick over my face. He glances at my chest and I become hyperaware of the speed at which it rises and falls. I’ve never been so scared in my life.

I don’t love my life—not like most people do anyway. I’ve wanted off the earth a million times before, but now it’s a possibility I’ve never appreciated my life more—no matter how abysmal it is. The broken tablet is no longer on my mind. It’s not worth my life and I’ll forget about it—I’ll even leave it in the rubble if it means making it back to my apartment tonight.

After he’s done analyzing my terrified state the man backs away cautiously, with the palms of his hands exposed and I let out a shaky exhale, ignoring the tremors that threaten to shake me to my foundations. After a few short eternities, he arches a brow and I realize he wants me to speak—to explain myself. I swallow hard and it’s painfully dry.

“You broke my tablet,” I manage to croak out.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, pushing his hood off of his head and exposing short, spiky jet-black hair.

Even without his pressure, I remain glued to the metal wall, my heart pounding in my throat. I could run, but how far would I get? This man is quick, much quicker than me, and I’ve never been much of a runner. He rakes his fingers through his hair, pulling slightly. “You need to get out of here.”

I frown. Just like that? “You’re letting me go?”

He angles his head, allowing the shadows to swallow up his face. If I could imagine the expression he was pulling, it’d be a confused one, like mine. “I have no reason to keep you. If you’re smart, you’ll run as fast as you can.”

He doesn’t want to hurt me, and strangely, the thought fills me with confidence. Or maybe it’s desperation. I can’t study without my tablet. If I don’t study, I’ll fail and if I fail, I’ll have nothing left. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you replace my tablet.”

The confidence doesn’t quite reach my voice, but at least I found the balls to bring up what he did. I can’t see his face, but I’m pretty sure I hear the smile on his lips.

“I broke your tablet?”

I nod, curling my fingers around the strap of my bag and twisting nervously. “On the train. You pushed past me coming out the doors and I dropped it.”

He folds his strong, thick arms tightly over his chest. “And you chased me into an abandoned industrial site? For what?”

I push off the wall. “To tell—”

“To demand I replace what I supposedly broke?”

With a nod, I sigh, exasperated. I need him to replace it. Without it, I have to go an hour or two out of my way to the library after my shifts and that’s not realistic for me. Of course, there’s no way I can force him to replace what he broke, but I’m hoping the universe gives me a break. Just this once. I need it.

Silence falls as he gives me an overt once over. I wonder what he sees. A small, desperate nurse who can’t even afford a comfortable pair of shoes? Or a liar? To him, I could be a crazy woman looking for a handout.

“You need crack money?” he asks, his voice dead serious.

“What?” I spit, inching forward. “No. I’m a nurse.”

“If you get your drugs for free, then what do you want with me?”

“I don’t need drugs. I—” I pause and let out an exasperated sigh. “All I want is for you to replace what you broke. So just fix it and I’ll be on my way.”

“What the fuck do you expect me to do?” He gestures around him, dramatically. “Do you see any electronic shops around here? Would any be open at this time?” He steps closer. “Look, lady, I’m not messing around. You need to get out of here before—”

He’s cut off by a loud clank that seems to vibrate up the entire height of the warehouse. The noise sounds creepy and dooming, and I’m sure it echoes for miles.

“What is that?” I ask, creeping closer to him.

His entire body is taut and tense, but in this moment I find more comfort in the huge stranger than the waking warehouse.

The stranger clears his throat. “That is your biggest mistake.”

 

The Warehouse

The stranger’s warm hand wraps around my exposed elbow and he tugs me behind him. If my heart was hammering before, now it pounds relentlessly, moving blood quicker than my body can keep up with. I let his large frame shield me from the endless clanking and curses coming from the enormous, delivery bay door. I pray the large man I followed into this industrial site is big enough to handle whatever comes out of it.

“Run,” he demands over his shoulder in a harsh whisper. “Now.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I jolt away from him and immediately scan the ground for my tablet. Maybe repairing it will cost less than replacing. Thankfully, I spot it three feet to my right and I jump towards it. I bend low and scoop it up, not bothering to dust off the dirt.

But it’s too late.

Whatever he wanted me to run from drenches me in a bright light. Squinting, I lift my hand to block it, but it’s no use. I can’t see a thing. Eventually the spotlight falls away, illuminating the inside of the bare warehouse instead of my face. The man in charge of the spotlight is unlike anyone I’ve seen before. He’s huge and his facial scars … whoa.

Worried my stare will offend the man, I drop it to the battered gray tank that somehow manages to cover the large expanse of his chest. Still, I can’t keep my mind of his injuries. Whatever happened to his face must’ve hurt. I flick my attention back to his marred skin. It’s as if a whip with fifty ends had lashed him right across his flesh.

“Wasn’t expecting two of you, Stone,” he grumbles in a husky, baritone voice.

Two of us? He thinks we’re here together? Fuck no. I’m not being lumped in with him.

“Oh.” I step forward and the stranger, Stone, flinches toward me, the warning clear in his deep, ocean-like eyes.

Wow.

In the dark I didn’t see his face, but now, in the light, every corner of it is exposed, leaving no chance for a single shadow to obscure his features.

If I’d seen his face sooner, I never would have been so scared. Intimidated, maybe, but not scared. He’s easily the most attractive guy I’ve seen this side of the tracks—a strong jaw with subtle scruff, pink, full lips and by the looks of it, he has all of his teeth in his mouth.

Clearing my throat, I look back to the other man. “I’m not here with h—”

“Two,” Stone cuts in, stuffing one hand into the pocket of his baggy, black shorts. “That’s what I told Skull.” From his pocket, he pulls out two fat rolls of money and I gasp. “If you’ve got a problem with my money, take it up with him.”

The man surveys the money in Stone’s hand and so do I. I’ve never seen so much green. Each roll has to hold at least ten grand, easily.

The man I’ve decided to insensitively name ‘Scarface’ grins, exposing glistening pearly whites. Astonishing, given his appearance. “There’s no problem.”

He steps forward with open hands and Stone drops the dense rolls of money into his palms. Scarface weighs them in his grasp before eventually stuffing them into his pockets. Then his coal irises flick onto me. I almost flinch at the direct sight of him. As I look over his gnarly face, my own begins to ache. His gaze rakes me from head to toe and he seems amused by my deep purple scrubs. Normally I change after my shift, but I’d decided to skip on that tonight, willing to risk the germs I’ll bring home to my apartment. The way I see it is, whatever bacteria and bodily fluids are on my scrubs at the end of a long shift are undoubtedly on every surface of my home. It comes complimentary with a rental as cheap as mine.

“You sure your girl can handle herself down there?” Scarface asks, his stare stopping on my chest.

Pig.

I peer at Stone. Down where? Where are we going and why does he have to pay so much money to get there?

Stone’s eyes narrow in. “Don’t you worry about her. She’s meaner than she looks.”

His blue eyes clash with mine and I see through his words. I also see sympathy and frustration.

“Alright.” Scarface exhales, stepping aside. “You’re in.”

Stone reaches out and snags me by my elbow, making me drop my tablet once again. It crashes to the concrete floor, sending pieces darting in every direction. I wince as he digs in the tips of his fingers and pulls me into the entry of the warehouse. Struggling against him, I spare a glance over my shoulder. There’s no repairing my tablet now… there’s no passing my exam.

Stone tugs me hard against him, forcing my attention to the room. The ceiling is tall, tall enough to house a jetliner, and the windows are a shitty plastic you can’t see out of. It smells like blood and dead animals; not a big difference from outside, but noticeable enough. Right in the middle of the room I see two open, steel doors and I spot the first of many steps that descend into darkness. Where does it lead? What will we see at the bottom of those stairs and what did Stone pay so much money to get access to? I shiver at the thought.

“Please tell me we’re not going down there?” I whisper, pulling against his grip.

“That’s exactly where we’re going.”

I dig my heels in, desperate to free my arm from his grasp.

“Let me go!” I snap under my breath, clenching my jaw when his fingers tighten.

Fear and desperation curl in thick strands and wrap themselves around my stomach. I’m a second away from throwing up or passing out. This has to be a dream. A sick, confusing dream. With my free hand I slap at him, but he seems unfazed. I’m causing a scene in hopes of Scarface interfering and letting me leave. Surely he can tell I don’t want to be here? I hear Scarface laugh and now the thought seems stupid—wasted. Why would he care? I thrash violently, slapping with all my might. Black strands of hair fall from my ponytail and stick to my clammy forehead.

“Slapping? Really?” Stone hisses, restraining my arm. “Please tell me that’s not all you can do?”

What the hell does that mean? “Let me go! I know people! They’ll come looking for me!”

It’s a lie, of course, but I refuse to let the reality of my situation settle in. The reality is, if I die here, who would know? Who would come looking for me? I have no parents, no siblings, and no friends. My memory will fade away and it’ll make no difference to anyone except for the exam marker who will mark ‘non-attendance’ next to my name in a fortnight’s time, and the nurse who’ll be no doubt relieved she doesn’t have to babysit me on my next shift.

I blink away the tears that sting my eyes.

“Shut up,” he orders, his voice low and threatening. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

“Got a problem there, Stone?”

Stone’s entire body tenses when Scarface speaks. Without a word, he dips low and I squeak as he wraps his arms around my legs and throws me over his shoulder. “No problem. She just realized she didn’t pack her new Jimmy Choos, that’s all.”

“No!” I shout, pounding my fists into his back. It’s a blatant lie. I would never forget to pack a pair of Jimmy Choos. Besides, it’s not like I can afford a brand of that caliber anyway. “Please!”

He ignores me while I squirm over his shoulder. I make no progress. Stone’s grip is tight, and he’s too strong to fight against. In this moment, I’m a mouse with my tail trapped underneath an elephant’s foot … I’m not going anywhere. Defeated, I slump and sob. Will anyone miss me? Will my face be plastered over milk cartons and billboards? Or will I become another number, a statistic, locked away in a police file and forgotten?

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