Chapter Four
Dictator Marcus
Lark
I'm led into a mess hall of sorts; one end is a cafeteria and the other a shopping/laundry area. The first guard explains that the little free time we will receive will be in here to eat, get toiletries, or to do laundry. We're expected to clean up after ourselves, and this is considered a freedom that’s earned. Any infractions will result in confinement and punishment. I can imagine how that will go, but is it really any different than what’s already happening?
I try to surreptitiously look for exits, but the rear guard must have noticed that I’m casing the area. He rudely informs me that we're in the basement level, and even in the case of an emergency we aren’t getting out of here— there are no exits. The guarded staircases and elevator bank are the only way out of here. I deflate a little at this. I want Rex. No, that asshole can go screw himself. I want Braeden.
As if thinking of Braeden has summoned him, he’s brought in with Rex and Emmett. I go to run and embrace him, but both of my upper arms are grabbed. “No touching.” What a dick. I’m already tired of being manhandled, and it’s only going to get worse from here. I see Rex slightly shake his head and ignore him, but when Braeden does it, I comply, earning me a glare from Rex.
Fuck you, Rex.
My eyes must express this well enough because his face goes to stony impassiveness. He's lost my respect, but I'll follow my bestie to Hell and back if needed.
Our little group is led to a line to get trays of food. After we’re through collecting our lunch, or maybe dinner? I can’t really tell what time it is from the fluorescent lighting, and there aren't any handy clocks hanging out either, but it’s not breakfast food being served.
Regardless of what the guards said, I keep an eye out for any hint of an exit as we’re led out to the hall and down a few doorways. The guard in front opens the room into a type of sterile sitting/dining area like you would see in a halfway house. Well, isn’t that apt? If I stay here too long, I’ll need to be admitted to one. May as well get used to it now.
The room has utilitarian furniture in a kitchen and common area combo. A sectional sofa and a recliner with a coffee table and television in front of it take up a portion of the room. The dining table is like the one my old school lunchroom had, with bench seating, except adult-sized. On the far side of the room a fridge, and kitchenette are set up— complete with a wall-mounted oven.
Rex and Emmett take seats on one side together, while I move around the table to sit opposite them. No way am I sitting next to that cunt muffin right now.
Braeden, letting out a Gusty sigh, sits next to me, opening his mouth as if to say something, until I shoot him a glare that shuts him up quick.
The lead guard addresses us. “Leave your trays on the counter over there, someone will be by to pick them up later. The bathroom and bedroom are through that door, go through the bedroom to get to the bathroom. Towels, extra clothing, and toiletries have been stocked in the hall closet.”
Oh, goody, the kidnappers will let us bathe and sleep. They’re so awesome! I snort at my thoughts, earning a glare from the guard. Oops.
He continues, “There will be guards posted in the halls, and there are security cameras. Don’t try anything, or there will be consequences.” The guard looks at me as he says this. I can’t tell if he thinks I’ll try something, or if I’m the one being held over the guys’ heads— probably both. With his little speech over, they all leave. We finish our food in silence and put our trays on the counter as instructed.
“I’m going for a shower, I feel disgusting.” Not waiting for a response, I leave the table. Frankly, I couldn't care less what they think.
I get a towel and shower supplies from the hall closet and find the list of rules on the door— ignoring them completely after seeing one of them says to shave daily. Whatever. They can kiss my ass on that one. Looking around, I see folded clothing on some of the shelves, and after some searching, find a tank top and some yoga pants that are my size, along with panties, but no bra. I sigh and decide to wash mine out and put it back on later— I’m just going to bed after I get done with my shower anyway.
I notice there’s another door at the end of the short hall, with a keypad next to the doorframe, and when I try it, it’s locked. Not really sure I want to what’s kept in there anyway, I turn to the only other door and open it. Inside, it’s set up like a large dorm room. Four beds with nightstands and lamps— nothing else— not even windows. Although, I suppose windows wouldn’t be down this far in the ground. That thought gives me the shivers, what if there were an emergency? Or the structure above us collapses?
Shaking off my morbidness, I continue through the open door, noting a decent-sized tub and shower combo, counter, a sink with a few drawers under it, and a toilet; still very utilitarian. I set my items out and start the water. I hope they have a good supply of hot water, I want a shower, then a good soak. Stripping down, I climb in, washing my hair and body before rinsing, so I can engage the tub stopper, letting it fill enough until I can lower myself in. I must doze off a bit in the hot water, because I wake up to the sound of a knock on the door.
“Lark? You alright in there?” Braeden, he must have been worried. I’ve been in here long enough to prune, so I guess he probably thought I drowned myself. Eh, I'll reserve that option if needed.
“I’m fine, be right out.” I push off my maudlin thoughts and pull the stopper to drain the water. I get out, drying myself off and dressing. I’m still brushing my hair as I open the door to find Braeden is standing there with concern plastered on his face.
“Do I need to worry about you checking out on me?” He flinches as he asks this, and for him to bring it up means he’s really, extremely worried about me. His mom killed herself when he was a teenager, and he’s the one who found her— slit her wrists in the tub.
I hug him, dirty clothes, body odor, and all. Not that he really smells that bad, Braeden always smells like home. “Of course not, I would never do that to you. If things get that bad, I’ll talk to you about it. We’ll get out of here, it can’t be that long before Rex can get a message out and get us free. Really, I don’t care about their stupid assignment at this place, we didn’t sign up for this crap. I’ll play along as well as I can until we’re rescued.” Reassuring us both the best I can, I let him go and step back, feeling guilty for even thinking about it.
“Ditto, Birdie.” He uses the comforting nickname he gave me the day we met.
“I’m gonna go get into one of those beds, make sure you’re between me and Rex. I’m liable to smother him with a pillow in his sleep if he gets too close to me. Who knows what that man was thinking, cheating would have been preferable to this.” Making my way back into the bedroom I choose the bed closest to the bathroom and finish brushing my hair before climbing into the bed between the stiff, industrial sheets, that smell strongly of bleach. I’m almost asleep before my head hits the pillow.