What do you do when you find yourself waking up locked in a basement with a man who saved your life ten years ago by a group of crazy murderous clowns who worked for the man who killed your parents ten years ago? Well, you most certainly don't burst out into an epic dance number complete with Justin Bieber. You also shouldn't break your wrist trying to remove the handcuffs the crazy killer clowns put on you, like I just did.

"Oh my God!" I clutched my broken wrist, wincing with pain. It hurt so bad.

Heath stared at me with distaste. "What did you think was gonna happen, stupid?"

He was chained to the wall like I was, feet tied and gag that he spent the last ten minutes removing around his neck. The room we were in was a basement and I knew that because the sounds of a fully functioning restaurant came from above us. The doors were heavy locked with chains. The walls we sat against were brick and covered in dirt. Other than a few crates and some discarded trash around the room, there was nothing around that could help either of us. At least none of the clowns were here.

"I thought it'd break." I rubbed my sore wrist, frowning.

"Your wrist?"

"No, the handcuffs!"

"Yeah well, you broke your damn wrist instead of the cuffs." Heath rolled his eyes. A spot of blood collected on the collar of his white button down from the tranquilizer dart.

"Wait!" I gasped, remembering something very crucial to my survival at the moment. I touched my neck where Rainbow Clown had injected me with the third dose. "That synthetic sedative created in Argentina. They injected me with it after you passed out, it was my third time. Cage said that after the third dose, the experiments they did on people ended badly. Everyone who was injected with it three times died after that...why- how? How am I not dead then? If it was the third time I've been-"

"November, I don't know." Heath said with frustration. "And honestly, I don't give a fuck. You're alive, focus on that. Questions come later. Right now, we need to find a way to get out of here before Romeo's men come back. Can you slip your hands out of the cuffs? They're pretty small but so are your hands."

"I tried that already." I made a face at Heath, wiggling the fingers of my broken wrist at him. Pain began to flash through again so I quickly stopped. The cuffs were attached with chain to the wall and our feet were tied, so we were basically helpless.

"Do you have a gun?" Heath asked.

"In what universe would I, November Jones, have a gun?" I snapped. "Oh yeah, of course I have a gun. I shoved it down my bra before they injected me with a sedative that might just kill me anytime now. Let me just pull it out and we're home free. Moron."

Heath glared at me. "You're so annoying, shut up."

"That's cute...coming from the man who got taken down by a little blue dart."

"I'd like to kill you but I'll let the clowns do the honours for me."

"Shut up, you're annoying." I echoed Heath's words back to him.

He sighed heavily and tugged on the chains, making a racket. I was about to tell Heath to stop making so much noise when pattering of footsteps above made us both freeze. We waited with bated breath and much to both our relief, the footsteps walked away. Heath began pulling on his cuffs again. I don't know what he was trying to do but it seemed to be working. The shackle base attached to the brick wall loosened just a tiny bit, but stopped after that.

Heath cursed under his breath and leaned back against the wall. "So would you like to continue the conversation we were having before?"

I picked at the chain links, swallowing noisily. As much as I hated to bring it up again, I had to know why Heath did what he did and how he felt about that night. I didn't remember anyone pulling Fern and I out of the car. Did I just not remember Heath because I was too traumatized by seeing my parents burned alive? Why did that one part of the memory not come back to me? A Crow, a member of the world's most lethal criminal organizations saved my life. It sounded utterly ridiculous, didn't it?

"Yes."

Heath stretched his legs out, staring at the rope bound around his ankles. "Is there anything you want me to tell you specifically?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" I picked harder at the chain. "Earlier, I mean. Why come clean about this now? Why didn't you stay with my sister and I that night? I would have remembered you then-"

"One thing at a time." Heath cut me off, his eyes hard. "I didn't tell you sooner because I didn't know who you were. I had no way of knowing that you were one of the two sisters I pulled out from the fire that night. Out of seven billion people in this world, we had to cross paths once more. It was...just an unexpected turn of events, I suppose. And the reason why I didn't stay with you that night was because of my past. I was wanted by Ivey Police for arson and a heroin trade. My affiliation with Cage would have landed me a life sentence. I couldn't just stick around and get caught."

"I can respect that." I nodded in agreement. If I had a history like Heath's, I wouldn't want to cross paths with law enforcement anytime soon, either.

"Great. Now let's get the fuck out of here."

"Great." I repeated. "You got any ideas how?"

"Not a damn clue." Heath shook his head in frustration. "Are you sure you can't slip your hand out?"

"My broken wrist says hi."

"Just try the other hand then, genius." He growled.

"Heath-" I whined. Just to shut him up, I tried slipping my other hand out. It got caught halfway over my knuckles, but surprisingly not as tight as the other wrist had been. The cuffs were rusty and made of metal, with large screws holding each half in place. The screws were too rusted to even bother trying to unscrew. I wiggled my fingers, thinking it'd help. Making my palm lay as straight as possible, I managed to slip one of the cuffs almost to my palm.

And then I noticed the discarded soda can laying near one of the crates. "Hey, can you kick that over?" I asked Heath, nudging towards it with my chin.

He used the heel of his boots to make the can come rolling towards me. I reached forward and picked it up. Heath stared quizzically as I began crushing the bottom of the can between my teeth. "What are you gonna do with that?"

"I am-" It was easily to bite through the thin aluminum. Gripping one end between my teeth, I used my hand to rip the can in half. It was actually a lot easier than I'm making it sound. The can made a strange ripping sound of thin metal being separated. "-going to get these stupid handcuffs off of me."

Unfortunately, I was too excited that I suddenly forget to be careful. When I bit down on the jagged end of the metal, the sharp edges that were created when the can ripped apart caught on my mouth and cut my skin. Pain blossomed up, and I could feel a drop of blood seep from my lower lip. Heath made a face but said nothing as I winced, momentarily shocked. After the pain wore off, I went back to creating a shim.

I pried a piece of aluminum off the can and threw the can away. Careful of the jagged edges, I flatted the shim and curved it to the shape of the cuffs. Heath watched on, a skeptical look on his face, but said nothing. I had no idea if this thing was going to work or not, but I had to try.

Inserting the shim between the locking mechanism and the teeth, I struggled to keep it in place. It was hard considering how far I had to bend my fingers to reach my wrist, but I somehow managed to keep the aluminum from sliding out. I tightened the cuff and pushed the shim farther into the teeth.

It unclicked.

Heath stared in surprise as I triumphantly opened up the cuffs and removed my sore hands from them.

"Where the hell did you learn how to do that?" He sounded impressed.

"I-" I was about to answer but suddenly stopped as footsteps passed near the door. They sounded close enough to make me sweat for it. But like before, the heavy footsteps slowly died out as the person who made them walked away a second later.

Forgetting Heath's question, I pulled myself up and grabbed the shim. It only took a moment for me to repeat the process on his handcuffs. Soon, he was free. Pulling himself up, Heath grabbed my arm.

"We can't leave yet. The doors are locked. Unless you can magically pull out another makeshift key from something, we can't slip out that door without anyone noticing. Do you have any weapons on you? A knife, possibly?" He noticed the look on my face and ate his words. "Never mind, forget it."

"Can't you just pick the lock?" I asked, extruding a bobby pin from my hair. The careless bun it had been in before loosened even more.

"I don't know how to pick locks, November."

"Well, neither do I." I snapped at his testy tone and walked over to the door. "But it's still worth a chance, right? Come on, I've seen this in a million movies." I handed Heath the bobby pin. "At least try it. I'm gonna go look for another way out."

Heath sighed but didn't protest. As he began examining the look, I walked around the room. There wasn't any windows because, obviously, we were in the basement, but there was another door. I gave it everything I had, pushing as hard as my tiny frame could against it, but the door wouldn't budge. The doorknob wouldn't even turn. Other than that, there was nothing else for us to make our great escape.

Heath was picking delicately at the lock, like a bird. He looked ridiculous, as if he was trying to do brain surgery. I watched Heath struggle for a moment. As far as the fucked up mentality went, he was absolutely useless when it came to wits.

"What are you trying to do, Heath?" I peered over his shoulder. His head was in the way so I couldn't see what he was doing to the lock, but I was pretty sure whatever he was doing was not the right thing to do.

"This isn't gonna work." Heath sighed and handed the bobby pin back to me.

"Let me try." I shoved him aside and took his position.

He frowned. "Be my guest."

I pried the two halves of the pin apart and stuck one end into the lock, wiggling it around. Before I could get too into it however, footsteps began to make their way right to the door. Panicking, I pulled the bobby pin out and stuck it back into my hair, dashing back to Heath.

He heard the footsteps too. And unlike before, they stopped directly behind the door.

A jingle of keys could be heard.

"Shit." Heath growled. He grabbed my arm and dragged me to the wall that was right beside the door so we were essentially hidden from view from whoever was going to step into the room. "Don't make a sound."

I held my breath. Heath didn't even look nervous, just very angry. My heart dropped to my toes as the doorknob turned and finally opened.

We had the element of surprise to our advantage. A man entered the room. He was bald and wore a black turtleneck with a heavy fur-trimmed leather jacket. In his large meaty hands was a silver assault rifle. He looked quizzically at the abandoned handcuffs for a second, but that was as far as the man could get.

Heath, deciding he had enough, attacked the man. There was a grunt of surprise. Using the distraction, I dashed out the open door to my freedom. There were sounds of fighting coming from inside the room. I turned around just in time to see Heath grab the man by the neck and sharply twist his head to the right so quick that a cracking noise followed.

The man dropped to the ground without another sound.

I'd seen his fighting skills back in Alberta and it was definitely not something to be taken lightly. But it still rocked me to my core to see someone get killed so up close and personal. I had to remember who I was dealing with. They were not good people.

Numb, I waited for Heath. He bent down and grabbed the rifle out of the dead man's hands. I winced as Heath's foot accidentally connected with the side of his cheek. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were glassy. I couldn't bring myself to speak. And I certainly didn't feel bad about the dead man.

"Let's go." Heath growled.

I quietly followed after him, the tears in my eyes making everything seem blurred. Heath took extra precaution to make sure no one was going to appear around the corner. So far, the hallway was empty. I checked the ceilings for security cameras and to my surprise, found none. Heath's fingers clasped around my elbow. We climbed a short staircase and stopped at a steel door.

"Okay, here's the plan." His eyes were dark and his voice was a hushed whisper. Heath let go of my arm and tightened his grip on the gun.

"What is it?" I asked nervously. Sounds of talking and laughter could be heard from the other side of the door.

"I'm gonna open this door and shoot every fucker I see, and you're going to run as if your life depends on it. Because it does, sweetheart. Find an exit and get the hell out of here. Try not to, you know, get killed or some stupid shit that you always get yourself into." His hands rested on the doorknob. "One, two-"

"Wait." I said, panicked. "That is just about the worst plan that I've ever-"

"Three!"

Before I could stop Heath, he pushed open the door.

Conversations halted and all eyes were on us.

A moment later, guns and rifles followed suit.

And then all at once, Heath's stupid plan sprang into action.

"Go!" Heath shoved me aside roughly. Taking heed of his words, I slipped away as the shooting began. Bullets began to bounce around, shattering everything they hit, including people.

My assumption had been right. We were in a restaurant. It was more like a bar, though. Half of the walls were taken up with diamond shaped shelves, holding liquor bottles. Wooden tables decorated the deep red carpeted floor. The lighting was dim and yellow, making the entire place seem like an ominous place for murder.

There weren't very many people who were in the room when we first burst through the door, but tall hulking men began to arrive with the commotion that was happening to see what was going on. Now I understood why security was so calm in the basement. There was no way Heath and I could have escaped without going through the restaurant first where Romeo's men were.

Ducking behind a shelf filled with glasses, I tried to figure out a way to leave the place without getting shot. My nerves were high and it was hard trying to calm down when people were killing each other. It was only Heath against all of the men. But I'd seen Heath's fighting skills and it was not something to be taken lightly. He was keeping himself alive very well.

A body thud to the floor close to my feet. Horrified, I jumped back and bumped into the shelf just as a bullet slammed into the wall over my head. Heath snapped a small measly guy's neck and caught my eye. He gritted his teeth and jerked his head to a door I hadn't noticed before. Unfortunately, the action caught the attention of others.

"Get the girl!"

"Oh, no." I whispered to nobody in particular, panicking as two men turned to look at me, guns ready.

Heath pulled the trigger. I didn't see where the bullet ended up, but a grunt of pain told us both he'd hit his target. He ducked a swinging punch from another man and moved out of the way. All around him lay bodies bleeding out. "November, run!"

With a gasp, I darted past the two men. I was small enough to slip away before they could react. Huh, I suppose being short did have its advantages sometimes. Heath was already making his way to the door, shooting anyone who came close or held up a gun.

"Do not let her leave!"

"Kill them both-"

"Come on!" Heath growled over the fighting. Before they could pull any trigger of any gun, we were gone. He opened the door and shoved me through first, slamming the door closed after him.

Bullets began to attack the heavy door. Heath was breathing heavily and the corner of his jaw was dripping with blood, but he seemed fine other than that. He dragged me out of the way. We didn't stop running until we were out of breath. A mile away from the restaurant, Heath stopped and leaned against the side of a building, grunting.

We were safe.

A cramp started to clutch my sides from running. However, I could care less about that. Something caught my eye. A very big something, in the distance. Something that no one could miss against the brilliant blue skyline, an object recognizable to nearly everyone.

It was the Sears Tower.

We were back in Chicago.