" The voice that had firstescaped his lips back on that darkened road when talking to Marcus andDoyle had been refined over the past few weeks. Now it...felt much morenatural to Art. It was something he had practiced, something he hadalmost perfected. Worryingly, the barman didn't move. Instead he lookedArt up and down, from head to toe and back up again. Art shifted, alittle nervous in his heels."How old are you?" Twenty." Art's reply was fast, maybe a little too fast. He had figuredout what he. Chloe woke with what felt like cotton wool in her mouth and a diesel engine thumping through her brain. Groaning she tried to focus on her room. Except it wasn’t her room. As she focused she became aware that she was in a small room, with a high, barred window and a door with no handle. The smell of the old mattresses began to infiltrate her senses, making her gasp and want to heave. she felt her throat contract and unconsciously moved her hand to her mouth and nose, trying to blot out the. More

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