Chapter 29: Into the Raging Fire

The control room feels like a cocoon of uneasy silence, a stark contrast to the chaos that rages outside. Liberty sits on the edge of one of the chairs, her arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold together the pieces of her composure. I can see her trying to process everything that’s happened in the last hour—the fight, the danger, the brutal reality of where she is. I can’t let her dwell on it too long. We need to move, to act before the Aryans regroup.

“Liberty,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm and steady, “we need to figure out our next move. We can’t stay here for too long.”

She looks up at me, those bright blue eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. She’s tough, tougher than most people would give her credit for, but even the strongest person has their breaking point. I just hope she hasn’t reached hers yet.

“Where can we go?” she asks, her voice quiet but steady. “Where is safe?”

I run a hand through my hair, thinking fast. “There’s a secured wing on the other side of the prison, where they keep the high-value prisoners. It’s not in use right now, but it’s heavily fortified. If we can get there, we’ll be able to hold out until the situation is under control.”

“And the Aryans?” she asks, her voice tinged with worry. “What if they find us?”

“They won’t,” I say, though I know it’s more a hope than a certainty. “The Sevens are handling them. But we need to move quickly. The longer we stay here, the more danger we’re in.”

She nods, standing up, her posture resolute. “Alright. Let’s go.”

We slip out of the control room, moving quickly and quietly through the winding corridors of the prison. Every step we take, I’m on high alert, my senses sharp, my eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The last thing I want is to walk into an ambush, not with Liberty by my side.

I catch glimpses of the other prisoners as we move through the corridors, some of them locked in their cells, others huddled in groups, their eyes following us as we pass. The tension is thick in the air, like a storm brewing on the horizon, ready to break at any moment.

We turn a corner, and I see a group of guards up ahead, their faces set with grim determination. They’re armed, but they look rattled, like they weren’t expecting things to get this out of control.

“Sev,” one of the guards says as we approach, his eyes widening slightly when he sees Liberty with me. “What’s the plan?”

“We’re heading to the secured wing,” I reply, my voice firm. “You need to cover our exit. Make sure no one follows us.”

The guard nods, motioning for his men to take position. “We’ve got you covered. But be careful—things are getting ugly out there.”

I nod, and we move past them, heading deeper into the prison. The air is colder here, the walls damp with condensation, and I can feel Liberty shivering beside me. I want to reach out, to pull her close, to offer her some warmth, some comfort, but I can’t. Not here, not now.

We finally reach the door to the secured wing, a heavy steel door with a keypad lock. I punch in the code, my fingers moving quickly over the keys, and the door slides open with a soft hiss.

“Inside,” I say, motioning for Liberty to go ahead.

She hesitates for a moment, her eyes meeting mine, and I see the fear there, the uncertainty. But then she nods and steps inside, and I follow, the door sliding shut behind us with a heavy thunk.

The secured wing is just as I remember it—cold, sterile, and silent. The cells here are empty, the walls lined with thick, reinforced glass. It’s a place designed to hold the worst of the worst, the kind of prisoners who need to be kept away from everyone else. But right now, it’s our sanctuary.

Liberty looks around, her expression a mix of relief and apprehension. “This place… it’s like a tomb.”

“It’s secure,” I say, trying to reassure her. “That’s what matters.”

She nods, but I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands are clenched into fists at her sides. She’s holding it together, but just barely.

“We’ll be safe here,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “We just need to wait it out.”

She doesn’t reply, just walks over to one of the cells and sits down on the edge of the bed, her hands still trembling slightly. I want to say something, to comfort her, but the words catch in my throat. I’m not good at this, at dealing with emotions, with fear. I’m used to dealing with threats, with violence, with things I can punch or break. But this… this is different.

I sit down on the floor across from her, my back against the wall, and watch her as she stares down at her hands, her mind clearly racing.

“Sev,” she says after a long moment of silence, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you helping me?”

The question catches me off guard, and I’m not sure how to answer it. Why am I helping her? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself ever since she arrived at this hellhole. There’s something about her, something that draws me in, that makes me want to protect her, to keep her safe. But that’s not something I can easily put into words.

“I don’t know,” I finally say, my voice rough. “I just… I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

She looks up at me then, her eyes searching mine, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. There’s a connection there, something raw and real, something I’ve never felt before. It scares the hell out of me, but it also makes me want to get closer, to explore whatever this is between us.

But before I can say anything else, the silence is shattered by the sound of gunfire echoing through the corridors. Liberty flinches, her eyes widening in fear, and I’m on my feet in an instant, my body tense, ready for a fight.

“Stay here,” I say, my voice low and commanding. “Don’t move.”

“No!” she protests, standing up, her eyes flashing with determination. “I’m not staying here alone. I’m coming with you.”

“Liberty, it’s too dangerous—”

“I don’t care,” she interrupts, her voice firm. “I’m not sitting here waiting to be a target. I want to help.”

I stare at her for a long moment, torn between the need to protect her and the respect I feel for her courage. She’s right—this isn’t the time to sit back and let others fight her battles. But the thought of her being in danger, of something happening to her, makes my stomach twist with fear.

“Alright,” I finally say, my voice resigned. “But stay close to me. Don’t do anything reckless.”

She nods, and we move toward the door, my heart pounding in my chest. The sound of gunfire is getting closer, the shouts and screams echoing through the corridors, and I know we’re walking straight into the eye of the storm.

We step out into the hallway, and it’s chaos. The Aryans have pushed past the guards, their numbers overwhelming, and the Sevens are fighting to hold them back, to keep them from overrunning the prison. It’s a battle of wills, a fight for control, and the outcome is far from certain.

I grab Liberty’s hand, pulling her close as we move through the melee, my eyes scanning the chaos for any sign of a threat. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and blood, the sound of fists meeting flesh, the crack of bones breaking. It’s a war zone, and we’re in the middle of it.

We’re almost to the end of the corridor when one of the Aryans spots us, his eyes narrowing as he charges toward us, a look of pure hatred on his face.

“Get down!” I shout, shoving Liberty behind me as the Aryan swings a metal pipe at my head.

I duck just in time, the pipe whistling past my ear, and I counter with a punch to his gut, driving the air out of his lungs. He stumbles back, but he’s not down yet, and I know this fight is far from over.

“Sev!” Liberty’s voice cuts through the noise, and I see her out of the corner of my eye, picking up a discarded weapon—a piece of metal, sharp and jagged. She’s ready to fight, but I can’t let her. This is my battle, not hers.

“Stay back!” I shout, blocking another swing from the Aryan, the force of it sending a shockwave through my arms.

But Liberty doesn’t listen. She’s already moving, her eyes locked on the Aryan, her jaw set with determination. She’s scared, I can see it in the way her hands tremble, but she’s not backing down.

Before I can stop her, she’s on him, swinging the metal with all her strength. The Aryan barely has time to react before the metal connects with his shoulder, cutting deep, making him roar in pain. He swings at her, his movements wild and desperate, but I’m faster, grabbing his arm and twisting it until I hear the sickening snap of bone.

He goes down hard

, but I don’t have time to celebrate the victory. There are more of them, and they’re closing in fast. We need to get out of here, now.

“Let’s go!” I shout, grabbing Liberty’s hand again, pulling her away from the fight. We run, the sounds of the battle fading behind us as we move deeper into the prison, the air thick with the tension of the unknown.

We finally reach a dead end, a heavy metal door blocking our path. I punch in the code, my fingers moving quickly over the keys, and the door slides open with a hiss.

“Inside,” I say, motioning for Liberty to go ahead.

She hesitates for a moment, her eyes meeting mine, and I see the fear there, the uncertainty. But then she nods and steps inside, and I follow, the door sliding shut behind us with a heavy thunk.

The room is small, the air cold and damp, but it’s secure. It’s a temporary refuge, a place to catch our breath, to regroup before the next wave hits.

Liberty collapses onto the floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her hands still shaking. She’s been through hell, and it’s not over yet. But she’s alive, and that’s all that matters right now.

I sit down beside her, my body aching from the fight, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. I want to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her that everything’s going to be okay, but I can’t. Not when I’m not sure of it myself.

“Sev,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “What happens now?”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “Now, we survive. Whatever it takes, we survive.”

She nods, her eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, I see something there—something raw, something real. It’s a connection, a bond forged in the heat of battle, in the crucible of fear and violence.

And I know, without a doubt, that I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her, to keep her safe.

Even if it means losing everything else.
Slave to the Mafia Prison Gang
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