Chapter Thirteen #2
Pulling against him, I stopped him from breaking into a run.
“We’ll find it. I promise. I’ll help you look, I swear.
But...this might be our only chance to talk.
” I pointed at the cascading sky. “The storm is muting us. If there’s cameras out here, they can’t hear us.
” I squeezed his hand. “We have to make a plan, Peter. You know that, right? We have to get out of here...before it’s too late. ”
His eyes bugged. “Wh-What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you heard what Henri told me. I stupidly thought he was a cop. I went along with him because I thought he would save us.”
His entire body tensed. “Oh yes, I heard alright. We all did. We heard that bastard admit that he used words to bind you into obedience. It all makes sense now why you didn’t just tolerate what he did to you but seemed morbidly grateful.
You acted as if he was your friend, and that?
Fuck, until the moment you kicked him in Victor’s trophy room, I actually feared you were touched in the head. ”
“I know how it must’ve looked.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” He sighed sadly.
“You let a part of yourself fall for him. Fall for a lie, and now that part is at his mercy because you can’t take it back.
He owns a piece of you. And that’s why you’re so desperate to run.
It’s not because you’re finally seeing that there’s no such thing as rescue but because you know in yourself that you’re already his and your freedom ended the moment he used kindness to kill you. ”
I stumbled backward. “You look as if you blame me for that.”
“No. I pity you.” He swiped at rain rolling down his neck. Lightning shone, jagged and silver, followed by its clashing, booming mate.
With another heavy exhale, he stepped into me and wrapped me tight in his cold, wet arms. “What he did to you—the lie that he’d save you? That has to be one of the most fiendishly cruel things I’ve ever come across.”
A watery laugh spilled from me, soaking into his damp shoulder. “If you can say that after enduring this hellhole for so long...? God, I-I find that totally terrifying.”
“Me too.” He squeezed me tighter. “But there’s a difference between physical warfare and psychological. Most Masters that come here focus only on flesh, but him? He seems particularly skilled at messing with your mind.”
Ain’t that the damn truth.
I sagged in his embrace. “He definitely gets under my skin.”
“Please, please don’t let him get any deeper.”
Rain fell on the top of our heads.
Echoes of what Henri told me when we first arrived repeated in the droplets splashing around us: “Every thread is breaking. Every decency is fading. And I have to say...death might be worth the price of letting go.”
Death.
He’d turned his back on all the good pieces of himself. He’d chosen death and the sick, sadistic journey toward it.
So...why shouldn’t I join him?
Why should I keep my morals when those very morals got me into this mess?
Anger trickled through me as I tugged away from Peter’s arms.
I gave him a sad little shrug. “Seems I stupidly fell for your fantasy of someone coming to save us. I believed in him.”
He winced. “And that’s what eats me up. When I saw the video of you guys in the library, I believed it myself for a second.
I believed he was a cop and here for us.
Fuck, I wasn’t prepared for how it made me feel.
Such hope, Ily. Such agonising, demoralising hope.
It tore through me before I could stop it.
And you? You hoped for far longer than me, so I can only imagine what it’s done to you.
I’m sorry. So, so sorry he manipulated you. ”
My cheeks grew hot. “If anyone deserves an apology, it’s you. Have you not seen your back? Good grief, Peter, it’s—”
“Sore but survivable.” He forced a smile.
“Like I just said...body abuse is one thing, but mental abuse? Dangling hope in front of you? Making you consent to what he did to you?” He shook his head.
“I told you he’s one of the worst, and you didn’t believe me.
But you believe me now. I know you do. And I get why you think tonight would be a good night to form an army and go to war. But—”
“Tonight is a good night.”
“Tonight, I have to save one life, not kill us all.”
“If we stand up together. We could win.”
He huffed and grabbed my hand. “We’ll talk and search. We’ve already wasted too much time. Come on.”
Breaking into a jog with him, I did my best to share my probably lethal, terribly suicidal plan. “Henri might’ve lied, but I didn’t. I made a promise to get you guys out. I’m not giving up just because he has.”
He shot me a look as we splashed through rain and grass. “What the hell are you saying?”
“I’m going to try. I have to. This is not how this ends. For any of us.”
He slammed to a stop again. “You can’t be serious.
Have you not been paying attention? There’s no way off this stinking island.
None.” Waving at the high battlements in the distance, he shrugged.
“How do you plan on getting past those, huh? How are you planning on stopping the guards from shooting you?” Grabbing his collar, he yanked it.
“How are you planning on stepping one foot past the electrical fence and not dying for the privilege?”
Goosebumps skated over me. “I-I don’t know—”
“You try and kill them, and they won’t just kill you back, jaanu. They’ll make you beg for it.”
I froze as the Hindi term of endearment fell from him. Homesickness suffocated every muscle, every synapse, thought, and feeling.
My feet staggered as if he’d physically slapped me with memories of safety and love, only to dump me back into a storm on rapist island.
He caught me with a wince. “Sorry. I-I slipped.”
“It’s fine.”
“None of this is fine, Ily.” He stepped into me and cupped my cheek.
I shivered as his eyes softened in ways they really shouldn’t.
Grabbing his wrist, I whispered, “You shouldn’t have kissed me...back in the vault.”
He froze.
Arguments crossed his face before he shrugged stiffly. “It was just another slip. That’s all.”
I didn’t know what to believe but I nodded and moved away. “We have to get out of here. Please tell me you’re ready to fight. Five years is enough. You deserve—”
“I deserve?” He laughed icily. “What I deserve is the right to kiss whoever I damn well please—if she wants me back. What I deserve is not to have a dick up my ass every fucking day!”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhaled hard.
“Look, I hate being the voice of reason all the bloody time, and I love your warrior spirit, and of course I want out. I want out every fucking second of every fucking minute but...it’s impossible.
There is no way out. Not unless you’re willing to go to the next incarnation and say farewell to this one. ”
I drew back. “There has to be a way. Henri took me around the citadel today. I saw the armoury. So many weapons, Paavak. We could figure out a way to steal them and start killing the Masters in their sleep.”
He chuckled with a terrible sigh. “You’re turning out to be quite the murderess.” He turned solemn. “What about the karma you’ll have to repay?”
“I’ll deal with that in the next cycle. I’m sure I’m allowed to take a life if it saves countless others.”
“And you figure you can just waltz around with a machete and slice off the heads of those who own us, huh?”
“Well, not quite like that—”
“You think you can fire an old musket—probably with no gunpowder or ammo—before a guard can shoot you with his Glock?”
“No, but—”
“Come on. Let’s keep searching.”
I fell back into a jog with him, my thoughts colliding. Every scenario I imagined included innocence triumphing over evil. The powers of good on our side, carving a path of righteousness.
But in reality...Peter was right.
Every move we made was recorded.
Every item we touched was catalogued.
If we stood a chance of uprising, we had to be smart.
“Tell the others,” I spoke around my quickening breaths. “This isn’t over. We’ll come up with a plan. I’m going to get home to Krish, one way or another. I have to. And I’m not going to stop until you’re back with your family and—”
“Well, well, well...what have we found here, boys?” Three Masters appeared from the storm’s shadows.
“Ah fuck.” Peter immediately skidded to a halt and stepped in front of me. Bowing his head, he tried to be subservient but his fists curled. “Evening, Master R, Master D, Master L.”
The three men chuckled. “Always so polite, little Peter.”
Peter stiffened and backed into me, subtly pushing me away.
One of the Masters noticed. “Aww, lookie-here. Peter’s feeling protective of the new girl.
” He elbowed the man closest to him. “Fancies her for himself, I reckon.” Looking us up and down, he snickered.
“Figured you’d get your dick wet in the storm, huh?
No one would see you fuck a fellow slave, is that it? ”
Peter didn’t reply.
My eyes narrowed.
I recognised one of them from the debacle at breakfast when Henri announced his last name was Mercer. I still didn’t understand why that was such a big deal, but I sensed the big problem currently stalking toward us.
Larry.
A weedy youngish guy with a paunch for his belly and noodles for arms. Probably made millions off some software app, turning a lifetime of being bullied into becoming one himself.
“Roger, I don’t know about you, but I think I’ve found all the treasure I’m interested in,” Larry said.
“Yep.” Roger, with a receding hairline and a body toned from the gym, chuckled. “I think you might be right, mate.”
“Run along, Peter. We’ll give you a free pass, despite your selfish attitude.” The third guy smiled thin and sly. “Go away. We’re interested in her tonight, not you.”
Peter backed up again, keeping me behind him.
His entire demeanour slipped from fearful to flirty. “You know...I always have fun with you, Master D. How about we go inside and—”
“I see what you’re doing.” Master D smirked. “And it won’t work.”