Chapter 57

"Umm, Sage?"

She whipped her head toward me, and in the process her hair whacked me across the face.

"What exactly did you tell Ryan?" I enquired, with knitted eyebrows. "You know, so that he allowed you to leave," I clarified, when she remained mute.

"All you men are the same." She crossed her arms around her tiny body, making me feel like she was getting defensive; it was easier for her to be defensive than show how deflated and empty she felt. "You all think that women belong to men. I'm not his possession. I don't need to ask him permission for anything."

"Sorry for asking." I curled my hands around the steering wheel and tightened my grip until my knuckles turned white. "You should have at least told him something. He might think I've kidnapped you with the sole purpose of taking advantage of you."

" Oh," she breathed. I could tell there was something else she wanted to say, but chose to bite the inside of her cheek instead.

We had stolen Grace's car. Maybe stolen wasn't the right word, as we were merely borrowing the car. The red Toyota wasn't as slow as she had made it out to be. It was relatively fast, and I even took the liberty of opening the window. Sure, it was winter, but the cool air woke up my sleep deprived brain.

I knew Sage hated me looking at her while I drove, but I risked a peek at her face. The midday light hit her face in a distracting way, illuminating her hazel eyes that looked duller than usual. I wondered what it would take to brighten her eyes again, to put the sparkle back in them. Her hair was messy, and the wind wasn't helping, I smiled at the frustrated look on her face as she tried to smooth her hair down.

"You know where you're going, right?" she asked, not making eye contact with me. I don't think she realised I was looking at her; either that or she didn't care and had accepted my bad driving habits.

"Don't doubt me," I ordered, not with enough dominance to scare her, but enough to get her to take my words to heart.

"I wasn't doubting you," she protested, in a very low voice. "I trust you..." she hesitated slightly, before carrying on, "with my life."

I acted like I didn't hear her and instead focused on the road ahead.

The road was quiet...despite the fact that there was some sort of procession directly in front of us, forcing me to slow my pace. I didn't toot my horn, since the large black hearse ahead of us confirmed that it was a funeral procession, and I didn't want to be disrespectful to the dead. Why did something like this happen when we were in a rush?

I wasn't superstitious or anything, but maybe this was a sign. Right now, we were chasing death and it didn't look like we would be able to evade death much longer.

"Have you thought about how we're getting in?" Sage asked me.

"I don't think getting in is the problem," I responded, running a hand through my hair. "The problem is getting out."

"Okay." She furrowed her eyebrows and I noticed that the shadows of her eyelashes formed crescent shapes on her cheek bones. 'Then how do we get out.?"

"I'm not entirely sure," I confessed. She didn't say anything, and the silence soon became too foreboding for me to handle. "There's something I wanted to ask you." I waited a couple of seconds for her to give me the go-ahead, but she only looked at me intently, blinking rapidly, as if she was desperately trying to focus on what I was saying. I reached into my pocket and handed her the picture I had found on the floor at her house.

Her reaction was minimal, if that much. "How did you get this?" She wasn't the least bit shocked, so she must have known about this.

"Why was there a picture of Grace at your house?" I enquired, watching as her thumb grazed over the picture, as if she was feeling the texture. She tried to rub the footprint off the photograph with her sleeve, but then gave up when the stain stuck.

She shrugged." I wish I knew." She handed the photograph back to me. "Last time I saw the picture it was part of a newspaper article. Coincidentally, it was also a missing person article, well a missing baby. I think I might be related to Grace. I mean that would explain why we look alike." Sage looked at me hopefully, as if she was waiting for me to agree with her.

"Maybe," I responded.

"Did you take anything else from my house?" She didn't ask this as an accusation, more like she was just merely curious.

"Nope," I lied, popping the p, hoping that she wouldn't detect the lie. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, trying not to make it too obvious that I was looking for signs that she saw right through me. I noticed that she was occupying herself by looking for microscopic dirt under her fingernails. Her nails were too short for any dirt to seek refuge in her nail beds; she had bitten them to the point of piercing the skin. I shuddered at the sight of her red, raw fingertips and was fighting the urge to pick up her hands and kiss each of her fingers to soothe her pain.

We drove in silence for the rest of the way to the FBI compound. The compound was on the other side of Croydon, and I was beginning to worry that we would run out of petrol. Was it better to run out of petrol, so that we couldn't go through with this? I know Sage wanted to find her mother, but there was no reason that she had to be the one to find her. I mean, I could go by myself. I could have left her with Ryan, he wouldn't have let her follow me. Of course, I could pretend we ran out of fuel, but Sage was smart enough to check the gauge.

It was too soon when the glass domed building loomed in front of us and mocked us as we made our way towards it. The whole building was closed off, with barbed wire fence, as if the horrors inside were meant to be kept inside. There were guards covering every square inch of the poor excuse for lawn. The grass had been ripped out from its roots, save for a small patch of dried, brown grass that had been forgotten.

Sage whimpered slightly at the sight of the guns carried by the guard, but she quickly stuffed her hand in her mouth, stifling her sobs. Little did she know that I was just as afraid as her. This place brought back memories of the Orphan Asylum I had been forced to work at as a child.

***

I parked at the gate of the FBI compound. I wanted to ask Sage if she wished to turn back and come up with a different plan, but I didn't get the chance before a choice was made for us. One of the guards approached us and pulled the front door handle with such force, that the whole door came off its hinges. They must be giving these men some sort of drug to make them more powerful. I swallowed to get rid of the fear that worked its way up my throat. He flung the door aside and faced me with a menacing look of glee on his face. He was tall, probably around six foot three and his eyes were glazed over with lust... bloodlust.

I reached my hand out to Sage, but instead of skin-on-skin contact, I heard a screech. A terrible screech that rattled my bones and stopped the blood running through my veins.

"Kaden!" Sage screamed as her door was flung open the same way mine had been. Another man grabbed her and crushed her body into his, his arms wrapped tightly around her torso. His muscles bulged against her body, completely engulfing her small frame.

These were the kind of guys one would expect to be part of the Russian mafia, but I guess the FBI guys weren't far from mob-like. Both guys were bald, and the tops of their heads shone.I was surprised to see that their teeth were just as shiny. I was half expecting to see yellow corn kernels, or at least a gold slit between their two front teeth.

Sage kept her eyes locked with mine as she struggled with the man who held her, but his only reaction was to yawn, emphasising that her movements didn't affect him in the least. He had a nasty scar across one of his eyes; it sealed his eye shut and was still pulsing red, like it had just been infected, yet he hadn't bothered getting it checked out.

"Let her go," I ordered, stepping out of the car. It would have been easier to keep my mouth shut. I don't know why I felt like I had to say something; it wasn't like I thought they would listen to me. I was well aware that they had guns, but they didn't seem to find it necessary to use their guns. Guess we weren't enough of a threat to them.

"Or what?" the man with the scar asked. "You'll beat me up until I bleed out through multiple holes in my body?" Sage stopped writhing against him and shook her head desperately. I couldn't make out what she was trying to tell me, but it was probably something along the lines of shut up.

I kept on talking. It would be better if they concentrated on me, instead of her. "I was hoping that it wouldn't have to come to that," I replied.

Both men laughed simultaneously, ignoring my threats.

"The boss will be happy to see that we've found her." The man holding Sage shifted her in his arms and slung her body over his shoulder. "What do you think he'll do to her?"

The other guy replied with a shrug. "Experiment on her.. Torture her... Who knows?"

"Such a shame, she's a pretty little thing. Maybe he'll let us have her once he's done with her. If he does, I get first dibs." I grew livid when he smacked her ass, while making direct eye contact with me. He smirked when my hands curled into fists, and I ran at him.

He dodged my punch at the last minute. I was shocked that his bulky form was able to move so swiftly, even with Sage's added weight.

"Seriously, kid? You're way out of your league." The man behind me sounded smug. I didn't turn around to look at him, but I knew that he was smirking. I wanted to wipe the smug smile off his face and hopefully knock out a handful of teeth in the process. I would get there, but for now I had to deal with the man who had touched Sage inappropriately.

The man with the scar addressed me with a mocking tone. "I would react the same way where a girl that looked like this was concerned." I was grateful that I couldn't see Sage's expression. I couldn't bear to see the look on her face. She pounded his back violently, causing him to bite his bottom lip in appreciation. "Feisty! I like it."

She screamed again and this time more guards came running.

I was about to take another swing at the man in front of me, but something hard hit the back of my knee. The blow to my joint resulted in me falling forward onto the sandy ground. My knees absorbed the pressure of the fall and I felt blood soak my jeans as the sharp rocks cut into my knees.

"What should we do about the boy? I don't think the boss gave us orders regarding him." I didn't know who was talking: everything was blurry. But I was alert enough to notice that we were in the middle of a circle of people.

"Kill him," a female voice replied.

I tried to stand up, but a crippling blow was dealt to the back of my head. I bent forward on all fours in a doggy position and gagged as blood spewed out from my mouth.

"No, not yet," someone else replied. That was the last thing I heard as I collapsed. My head fell forward into my own pool of blood and my eyelids fluttered closed against my will.