Chapter 157: In the Shadows of Midnight

Micah’s POV

The darkness in that underground bunker was suffocating.

Sitting on the cold concrete floor, my back pressed against the weeping stone, I felt a sudden, sickening wave of regret crash over my head.

I should have told my father.

When Bernard had dragged me into that private executive office minutes ago, I was so blinded by rage, so desperate to scream at him for orchestrating Plan Mayor and threatening Noah, that I hadn’t said a single word about what these guards were doing after hours.

Bernard Miller was an evil, calculating monster. He had orchestrated the abductions of dozens of university athletes just to create mass panic for the mayoral race. But Bernard was obsessed with control, order, and discipline. The hostages were his political chips. He wanted them alive, intact, and ready to be used as leverage.

He had no idea that the hired trash guarding this bunker were exploiting his absence. The moment Bernard strapped on his mask and left at midnight to attend his syndicate meetings, these armed animals turned the bunker into their private hunting ground.

Beside me, Sunny was shivering so violently that her shoulder rattled against mine. Her small, trembling fingers were dug so deep into the fabric of my sweater that her fingernails bit right through the cotton into my skin.

CREEEAAK.

The heavy iron door at the entrance of the bunker groaned open.

The sound cut through the room like a rusty razor.

The entire bunker held its collective breath. Nobody moved. Nobody whimpered. Even the athletes who had spent the last week talking about fighting their way out were pressed completely flat against the freezing dirt, praying to become invisible.

The only sound breaking the awful silence was the girl a few feet to our left.

She was the same girl who had been crying nonstop in the cargo truck. She was hyperventilating, her chest heaving as she desperately sniffled, trying to pull air through her blocked, tear-choked nose.

Sniff. Sniff.

The sound was tiny, but in this dead, pitch-black silence, it echoed like thunder.

“I don’t want to get picked, Micah…” Sunny whimpered into my ear, her breath trembling against my cheek. “Please, God… I don’t want to get picked…”

“Stay down,” I whispered back, my voice barely vibrating past my lips. “Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”

My own heart was hammering so hard against my ribs that I was terrified the guards could hear it beating.

I didn’t want to get picked either.

The horror of the situation hit me like cold water. Bernard wasn’t here anymore. The lights were completely off. In the pitch black, nobody could see my face. These drunk, ruthless guards wouldn’t know that I was Bernard Miller’s son. And even if they knew, in this blacked-out room, they wouldn’t give a single shit about who my father was.

Heavy, uncoordinated footsteps stepped onto the concrete threshold.

Clack. Thud. Clack.

The smell of cheap whiskey, stale tobacco, and sweat drifted into the room ahead of them.

“Hurry the fuck up and just pick one already!” a loud, impatient voice bellowed from out in the hallway. “We don’t have all night! The patrol shift changes in twenty minutes!”

“Shut your mouth, I’m looking!” a second voice grumbled from inside the room.

The footsteps moved deeper into the bunker.

Around us, students buried their faces into the dirt floor. Big, strong varsity wrestlers were curling into tight balls, pressing their foreheads against the concrete, wishing they could sink straight through the floorboards.

I couldn’t help myself.

My heart was in my throat, but I slowly, agonizingly tilted my chin up, peering through the heavy darkness.

A tall, broad silhouette was moving slowly down the center aisle. He held no flashlight. He was navigating by running his rough hand along the exposed pipes on the wall, his boots dragging through the dirt.

My breath locked tight in my throat.

The shadow was turning.

He was heading straight toward our corner.

Step. Step. Step.

I pressed my lips together so hard I felt my split lip crack open again, the warm tang of blood touching my tongue.

Please, I prayed, closing my eyes for a fraction of a second. Please keep walking. Keep going.

THUD.

The footsteps stopped dead.

Right in front of me.

Two thick, heavy combat boots were planted less than six inches from where my knees touched the ground.

My breath caught completely in my chest.

Panic exploded through my veins. I slammed both of my hands over my mouth, biting down on my own knuckles to stop the choked scream clawing at the back of my throat. My eyes were stretched wide, staring up at the towering, faceless shape hovering directly over us.

Beside me, Sunny froze completely. Her grip on my forearm tightened until my fingers went numb.

The guard stood there in the dark, swaying slightly on his feet. He let out a low, disgusting grunt, smelling heavily of liquor.

He reached a hand out into the air, his fingers brushing against the fabric of my sleeve.

My entire body locked rigid.

This is it, my mind screamed. He’s taking me.

Right at that exact second—

SNIFF.

A feet to our left, the sobbing girl couldn’t hold it back anymore. A sharp, wet sniffle broke out of her mouth as she gasped for air.

The guard’s hand froze mid-air.

He pulled his fingers away from my jacket.

Slowly, the silhouette shifted his weight, turning his torso toward the sound of the crying girl.

“Found you,” the man chuckled, his voice thick and vulgar.

He lunged sideways.

His rough hands grabbed a fistful of the girl’s messy brown hair and hauled her violently off the floor!

“NO! NO, PLEASE!” the girl shrieked at the top of her lungs, kicking wildly against the empty air. “LEAVE ME ALONE! PLEASE, GOD, NO!”

“Shut up, bitch!” the guard barked, wrapping a thick arm around her neck and dragging her backward across the concrete toward the door.

“HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME!”