No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

Darby found the courage to look at her hand, blinking
away watery tears. Her ring and pinkie fingers were gone
above the hinge, inside the door’s scissor-jaws. Gone. It gave
her a nauseous, shivery jolt. Her body just ended there. It
couldn’t possibly be her hand, but it was. She couldn’t imagine
what her fingers looked like inside the door — skin burst,
tissue shredded, bones broken into splinters. Tendons crushed
and tangled into red spaghetti noodles. There was somehow
less blood than she’d expected; just a long, shiny bead running
down the doorframe.
She watched it inch down the chapped wood.
“Ashley,” Sandi barked. “Are you even listening?”
Darby reached for the doorknob with her unhurt left hand,
swiping, missing it twice, finally closing her numb fingers
around it, to open the closet door and free her mangled hand,
to reveal the hideous, heartbreaking damage — but the
doorknob didn’t turn. He’d locked it, the bastard.
Ashley strode across the room, pocketing the key, leaving
her pinned there. “Alright, Sandi. It’s time I leveled with you.”
“Oh, now it’s time? After all this?”
“Sandi, let me explain—”
“Oh, sure.” She hurled the plastic first-aid box at him,
which he swatted away, clattering off the stone counter. “You
gave me your word, Ashley. No one was supposed to get hurt
through this whole thing—”
He edged closer. “I have a confession to make.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
He spoke slowly, precisely, like a surgeon delivering bad
news. “Our meeting here wasn’t about finding a discreet
public place for you to hand off your storage key to me. I
mean, yes, that was your plan, and maybe I’ll put those steroid
shots to use to keep Jaybird alive for as long as they last …”
Sandi’s eyes widened with icy terror.