When she put her legs over the side, she discovered the mattress was on the floor. She put her hands in front of her, searching for walls.
There was nothing so she turned and tried behind. Nothing there either.
“Hello?” she said softly.
Her voice echoed back to her. An empty room. An empty something.
Except for her and a blanket and a mattress. Her legs trembled as she stood. Every bit of her wanted to stay on the mattress and not move away from it, but a small corner of her brain told her she had to search the space.
Carefully. Slowly.
She put her hands in front of her again. They trembled as she took a shuffling step. She strained to hear any sound. There was nothing, not even the muted shuffling of her feet. But she was only wearing socks so they wouldn’t make noise, would they?
There were no cars driving by, no planes, nothing she could for certain make out. There might be something in the distance, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Banging? The rumble of a diesel engine?
Her blood rushed in her ears, and that didn’t help. She wanted to turn and collapse on the mattress again. Hide beneath the blanket. Close her eyes and pray.
But she’d been in this situation before and she’d been useless. They’d had light then, and she’d still been useless. Not this time.
She stood very still and thought for a minute. What would Colt do? He would try to find a wall and then he’d make his way around the room, searching for a door or a window. He’d get the lay of the room, then he’d make a plan.
She could do that much, even if she didn’t have the first idea what to do about it. It was terrifying to move in a space with no light. She didn’t know what was in front of her, what kind of obstacles might wait. What if the space was endless and she lost the mattress with its warm blanket?
“That won’t happen,” she said to herself. “You heard the echo when you said hello. It’s not that big. Hello,” she said again, louder this time.
The word echoed back to her and she did it again, moving slowly. The room wasn’t too big. There were walls. Metal walls, maybe.
The floor beneath her was solid. She shuffled so she didn’t accidentally step into a hole. What if there was an opening to a room below and she fell through?
“You don’t even know if there’s anything below you, fool.”
It was stupid to talk to herself, and yet it might also keep her sane.
“Bend over and feel the floor. You haven’t done that yet.”
She dropped down and put a hand to the surface beneath her feet. It was concrete. She knew because it was rough like concrete. It was also cold. She was thankful she’d found her fluffy socks before the men grabbed her. They were thick, with a non-skid bottom. Almost like a boot, except for the lack of structure.
She stood again and shuffled. And her fingers connected with metal. A metal wall. She felt her way along it until she reached a corner, then she felt her way along that side until she reached another corner.
She felt for windows or doors, but there were none. When she encountered a chair, she almost wept for joy. It was something.
She left it where it was and continued on again. There was a crate against one wall. She decided it was a shipping crate based on the feel of the wood. Rough, not polished. No opening for legs so not a desk. Not a cabinet because, again, not polished. She felt around it, looking for a way to open it, but there wasn’t one she could feel.
Angie continued like that until she came to a door. Excitement flared as her hand landed on a metal door knob. She turned it. It didn’t give way. She grabbed it with both hands and shook it.
Nothing happened.
“Keep going,” she said.
She moved around the room. She didn’t find another door, but she reached the chair again. She knew it was the same chair because she’d been counting the corners. The crate was on the opposite wall from the chair and the room was a rectangle.
After she’d mentally mapped the exterior of the room, she felt her way into the center. There was a pole, probably for support, that she hadn’t encountered before. It was metal, square. An I-beam.
If there was one, there was likely another. She thought about the length of the longest wall and decided there were two or three beams. A warehouse?
“With no windows?” she grumbled.
She felt around the beam, then moved forward. Her toe kicked something. It stung and she cussed a blue streak. She reached out again—and discovered a much narrower metal beam.
Except it wasn’t a beam. It was the support to a step. Angie moved her hands around until she connected with the railing.
Stairs…
Angie started to climb, pulling herself along carefully.
Something rattled and she froze.
A door squealed open on creaky hinges and a light swept the room. Angie cowered on the steps, her head turning away from the light. She told herself to concentrate on whatever the light revealed. The mattress was in the middle of the room, close to a steel support beam. There was a bucket nearby as well.
The light swept from the bed, hooked around the walls, and then upward until it stopped on her. “Where do you think you’re going, bitch?”
Colt retrieved the lantern and made his way to the bedroom to pull on some clothes. His chest tightened at the sight of the bed. The sheets were rumpled and the covers thrown back where Angie’d been the last to leave it.
He swept the light through the room, methodically checking everything. Her leggings were gone. Her thick fuzzy socks. Her bra was still
