Chained (Caged #2)(36)

IT HAD BEEN A HARD night. I ached everywhere and a couple of my broken ribs were giving me jip as I slowly walked home. I was tired, exhausted, and it reflected in the drag of my feet on the pavement.

It was a cool night and I welcomed the chill on my skin.

“Evening, Anderson.” Mohammed, the proprietor of my local shop smiled at me. “You look sore tonight.”

I smiled, my cheek aching with the action. “Tough one.”

He nodded in understanding and passed me my usual packet of cigarettes. Totalling them up with the bottle of whisky I had snatched off the shelf, he took my money and entered it into the till.

“Word on the street, Anderson.”

My eyes snapped up to his and I narrowed my eyes but gave him a nod to go on.

“Someone’s been asking questions.”

“Who?”

He shrugged as he handed me back my change. “No name yet, but tall guy, red hair and eyes like a viper, I’ve been told. I’ve got my ear to the ground. As soon as I have it then it’s yours.”

“Thank you.”

I slipped him a couple of twenties and bid him goodnight, lighting a cigarette as soon as I stepped foot outside the shop. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled when I inhaled a crucial dose of nicotine, and my fists clenched with irritation. I needed to find this f*cker before the fight with Ivan. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, leave Kloe exposed and under such a threat.



Robbie shook himself off, blinking up at me when I kicked his ankles and woke him. “Lazy f*cker.” I grinned as I dropped onto the sofa beside him.

“What time is it?”

“Just gone midnight.”

“Shit.” He stretched, yawning, and rolling his head around his neck. “Didn’t mean to sleep that long.”

I chuckled, understanding how tired we both were lately. Robbie had been having trouble sleeping, I knew why, but neither of us wanted to talk about it. Instead we bottled it up inside like we always did and let it ride.

“Kloe in bed?” he asked.

“I would imagine so; I’ve only just got in. You want a drink?”

He nodded, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He looked worse for the nap, the greyness to his skin making his usual rough features appear even more menacing.

Gritting my teeth at the pain that shot through me, I pushed myself up and went to put the kettle on.

Red whimpered as soon as I opened the kitchen door, and scampered to my side, her cold nose burying into my hand. “What’s up, girl?”

She seemed on edge, her ears pricked high and the fur on the back of her neck stood rigid with alarm.

“Red?”

Every bone in my body cracked under the pressure of dread when she scratched at the basement door. She whined, scratching harder as she turned her head to look at me and then nudged at the door.

The handle felt hot under my touch, my imagination going wild, and as soon as I pulled the door open, Red scurried down ahead of me, her urgency making my heart race.

My feet dragged down each step, fear pulling at each muscle and making movement slow and awkward.

Nothing but silence greeted me. The dark depths of my own basement became terrifying and foreign, the undiscovered playing tricks on my mind and building the tension in my body.

And finally I took the last step.

The very pits of hell couldn’t ever exhibit the horror that greeted me. Rivers of blood couldn’t ever replicate such a gory scene. And never in my own nightmares could I imagine something so sinister.

Kloe was on her knees, her small frame lost in the reservoir of blood that washed around her. Her face was down, her focus on her knees as she remained still and silent.

My butterfly knife sat by her hand, her fingers uncurled as though she had only just that second dropped the offending object.

My gaze lifted to the swinging chain. My stomach lurched and I blew out the rancid air that had curdled in my lungs. Terry’s head was all that remained, the terror portrayed in his eyes, the last thing he’d ever witnessed displayed in his petrified gaze. The rest of him was scattered in piles around the floor.

Red whimpered again, knocking Kloe and gaining my attention.

“Holy -fu…” The expletive evaporated from Robbie’s tongue when his foot landed on the step behind me.

My body was frozen in shock, the numb parts of me refusing me any movement.

“Kloe?”

I didn’t think she’d heard me, her name coming from me in a horrified whisper.

She turned slowly, her head spinning on her shoulders like some f*cking horror movie. Her vacant eyes found me. “I made him tell me, Anderson.” The chilling tone of her voice made my throat constrict.

My heart vaulted and air left my lungs in a rush. “Tell you what?”

Her eyes dropped for a second before they once again found mine. “Who.” She shivered and licked her lips, the blood that coated them smearing with the wetness. “Who,” she repeated.

I grimaced as I stepped towards her, my feet slipping in the guts that made a pathway to her.

She looked up at me, her beautiful eyes blinking as I lifted her into my arms. “I didn’t believe him.”

I nodded.

“So I made him pay for lying to me.”

Vomit was hurrying up my throat with the sweet but bitter smell of all the blood. I carried her through the house, and quickly switching on the shower, I stepped inside the cubicle, both of us fully clothed and her covered in more than fabric.