Unsure of what do to next, I looked around helplessly. Of course the bathrooms wouldn't have windows. We were underground, dammit. But...they had a door.

A door.

I stared at the door with adooration (yes, pun intended). It was like one of those moments they have in movies when angelic music plays in the background as a halo of bright golden light engulfs the person.

The door was not the one I came through, but an emergency exit near one of the back stalls. After a quick debate of whether or not Nick would get suspicious if I took the time to pee and then leave, I decided to pee and then leave. He seemed nice enough to give me all the time in the world to do whatever he thought I needed to do in here.

As quick as a quick animal, I used the bathroom, washed my hands, and walked out of the emergency exit door. It was in the opposite direction from where Nick was so patiently waiting. I felt kinda...smug just walking out like that. I was doing my 'boss walk that made me feel like I was in a Pantene commercial but still kind of intimidated for I was surrounded by very dangerous people in a very dangerous place' sorta thing.

The door didn't lead me to Hogwarts, as I had hoped, but to a hallway that was similar to the ones Cage and I walked through before. The security camera was watching everything, but I was hoping I could make it out of here before anyone noticed me wandering around.

We were underground. I needed to go outside, but not to the roof. That meant finding the ground level or at least the first floor that was above the ground. In the helicopter, I noticed that we landed on top of a silver building that was just on the outskirts of the city.

And to do that, I had to walk.

Suddenly, I came across another problem. I couldn't walk. My ankle hurt too badly. It was starting to swell up a bit and went stiff after a couple moments. But I couldn't just stand there contemplating about my missing eyebrows, my broken ankle, and Fern. Someone was coming, and it seemed like a lot of someones. Footsteps ran overhead.

Panicking, I started to run. Or at least limp away very quickly. They had found out I was missing. Nick must have realized what happened. My ankle began to burn with a special kind of torture as I ran. The farther I got away, the quieter it got. The footsteps I had heard earlier were gone, for now.

Pleased with myself, I turned around the corner and nearly tripped over another tripwire.

Heart pounding, I took a second to count my blessings. This particular booby trap had a nice looking bear trap hanging above it, waiting to be triggered by the slightest touch. It was amazing I had managed to stay alive this long, really. Cautiously, I stepped over the wire and continued on my way.

To my knowledge, I was moving up to the ground level. I climbed more and more staircases, hoping to see a window. Every door had a tripwire and many of them had some sort of lock on it. Frustrated, I turned wherever the hallways led me to. For all I knew, I could have been walking my little butt straight back to Cage Vickers. The underground tunnels and hallways was like a maze.

I was beginning to lose all hope when I encountered a door. There was nothing special about this door, except it had no lock and the words 'Private Property' was emblazoned in black stone on the white door. Curious, I pulled it open, making sure there wasn't a booby trap set up behind it.

There wasn't, and what I saw surprised me. The door led into a hallway that led to what looked like a living room made up of wooden and white marble floors. Uncertain, I ventured further inside. It was a house underground because there were no windows. Lights set into the white ceiling lit up the place with a calming sort of atmosphere.

Everything was very neat and clean. White Gothic columns reached from the floor to the ceiling. There was a big leather couch with matching pillows in the middle of a wooden floor. A glass coffee table with a black gun and a laptop sat in front of the table. The next room was the kitchen. The appliances were very modern and expensive. A chandelier sent shatters of crystal reflections across the spacious area. Since there were no windows, there were many light fixtures, including one that was fixed into a wooden square over the living room. A hallway led to more rooms further in.

It was a very nice place, like something out of a magazine. However, the place felt strange. There were no pictures or personal belongings except the gun and laptop. It was as if no one had ever lived here, but without all the dust. Things looked too perfect. Like a setup.

It took me a moment to realize I had stumbled upon Cage Vickers home.

And when I did, I freaked out. And it was not the happy kind of freaking out, it was the 'oh my god, I'm going to die in here and Fern will never find my body' type of freaking out.

I'm going to cry. I'm going to cry. November, you're dead. There is no way you're going to make it- okay, positive thinking. I'm going to get out. I'm not going to cry. Oh God, I was going to cry- no! Good thoughts! You can do this, November. You lost your eyebrow, but you are not going to lose your life. This is not happening. Okay, this is definitely happening. Maybe if I pinched myself, I'd wake up from this nightmare. Ouch! Okay, this was real. And now my hand really hurt-

"November." A voice muttered darkly. My stomach dropped. I would recognize that voice anywhere. Perfectly alluring with a darkness that no man could ever match. I didn't turn around, but I didn't need to. I knew exactly who it was. "Do you want to know what I think?"

The door slammed shut behind him and the lock clicking in place sent my heart straight down to my pretty pink-painted toes.

Cage didn't wait for an answer.

He began walking towards me. I chewed my bottom lip fretfully, keeping my back turned towards Cage. Staring hard at the ground, I tried to focus on anything but how dangerous his tone was or how much each step he took towards me affected my breathing.

"I think that you lowball how dangerous this environment really is. I do not care how young you are, I do not care that you got dragged into this. What you need to understand is that when it is time to get rid of you, I will. By any means. What's one more life to me, November? What makes you think you get to run around and talk back? Respect and loyalty, my love. You have shown neither. If you were anyone else, November..." His voice was breathless. "...if you were anyone else, you would have been long gone."

I didn't apologize because I didn't regret my actions. Cage Vickers was a powerful man, but Fern taught me better than that. He wasn't going to win. I wouldn't let him. I would fight for my life like I should have for my parents. I could at least do that much. I had to. Or else I'd be nothing but a coward. And that was not an option.

I smiled. "And yet I'm still here."

"Yes." Cage was close enough that I could feel his words on the back of my neck. "Enjoy it, sweetheart. You won't be for long." His hand grabbed my arm and turned me around to the full fury of his green eyes. Cage Vickers was a very handsome man, but beauty doesn't always mean perfection. "Here is what is going to happen."

His fingers tightened. "You are going to come with me. You will not say a word to anyone. If I hear you speak...well, there are always ways to shut someone up." Cage smirked. "You are going to do everything I tell you. One step out of line means your death. If you want to fight back, go ahead. Throw a little girly fit. If I need to tie you up, princess, I will. And I will make it hurt. You have put us all through enough."

I almost laughed in his face. He was so dramatic. This was ridiculous. However, my smirk quickly diminished when I saw him pull out a gun. Jeez. You'd think that with all the gun threats, he would have shot me by now. That gun never failed to strike a small tingle of fear in my heart.

"This ends tonight, with either your submission or your deat- what the hell happened to your eyebrow?" Cage interrupted himself, finally noticing my missing left eyebrow where I had Sharpie'd makeup over. I could almost hear Fern laughing in my head.

Self-conscious, I slapped a hand over my missing eyebrow. "It was an accident."

Cage stared at me. "You burnt it off, didn't you?"

"No!" My face was flustered. At this point, I would have chosen the death threats over this awkward conversation. "Fine. Yes. I did. I burned off my eyebrow on accident. Can we get back to all the alpha male threats you were saying before?"

"November-"

"Shut up, Cage."

He smirked, making my stomach turn. "I don't know what to do with you."

"Why do you have to do anything with me?" I saw the chance to make my plea again. "Why can't you just let me go? There's a whole season of Parks and Recreation left on Netflix, and I need to be alive to watch them."

Cage didn't smile at that, but I saw the flicker of amusement that passed through his forest green eyes. He glanced under my elbow at the gun sitting on his coffee table, and then to the clock hanging above the electric fireplace. I looked too. It was 6 in the morning. I felt an overwhelming sense of irritation. When was Cage going to let me go? If he was ever planning to, that is.

"Hey." I said loudly.

Cage had walked away now. He was ruffling through some papers that were on mantel of the fireplace. He didn't turn around. "What, November?"

I grinned. "Knock knock."

Cage turned around, annoyance written all over his face. "Are you fucking serious?"

"Knock, knock." I repeated again.

He sighed deeply. "Who's there?"

I was surprised, to say the least. Cage Vickers, infamous gangster and wanted criminal, knew how to do a knock knock joke. It was such a normal thing for such an abnormal man. "Orange."

"November-"

"Orange."

"Orange who?"

"Orange you going to let me go?" Pleased with myself, I smiled proudly at Cage. I had made that joke up on the spot. Unsurprisingly, Cage didn't seem to appreciate it. He muttered something under his breath and turned back to what he was doing before.

"Cage." I made my voice as whiny as I could. It even made me cringe, but I continued. Since the bathroom plan didn't work, I'd have to find another way out. However, I did admire the fact that I wasn't dead yet. Considering what the Crows were capable of, this was amazing. I'd have the greatest story to tell Fern's daughter.

"November." He mocked my whiny voice.

"Let's talk." I walked over and took a seat on his couch. Smiling, I patted the space beside me. Cage pressed his lips together, frustrated. After a moment, he complied and sat down. I fixed the hemline of my jacket, took a deep breath, and was about to start singing 'Let It Go' from Frozen when Cage cut me off.

"What happened to your hand?" He implored curiously. I was more than shocked to feel his fingers around mine. My heart was beating loudly enough that I was almost sure he could hear it. Cage opened my clenched fist and touched my scar from the fire with the tips of his fingers gently. His hand was freezing cold. He brushed the scar, a touch so soft that I barely felt it on my palm.

Cage rested his head against the couch. His voice was quiet. "I noticed it in the helicopter when you were sleeping. It looks old." He touched the pink scar again. "And scars are stories. A memory written in skin. What's your story, November Jones?"

I pulled my hand away. Tears itched the corner of my eyes. Even though Cage didn't know how much remembering it hurt me, I couldn't help but feel a brush of anger at his question.

"Curiosity killed the cat." I muttered quietly.

"What a stupid cat." Cage replied, just as softly.