Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
LUCY
Making up stories doesn’t work anymore.
For the first couple of days, I could still use it as an escape. Instead of focusing on all the terrible things—the suffocating fear, the relentless throb in my battered wrist, the aching loneliness—I spent countless hours brainstorming story ideas.
As I tried to fight the lure of food and water, I meticulously plotted action scenes and character histories and crossover events between series.
When the dark felt like it was closing in, I forced my mind to other, imaginary places. The little town in the Rockies that my newest hero calls home. The romantic getaway to Sonoma I planned for my romantic leads. The rundown cabin they had to take shelter in after their car broke down in the middle of Arizona.
In those early days, it was easier to distract myself. Back when I was certain I’d be rescued right away, when my stomach wasn’t gnawing at itself, and the first signs of an infection weren’t setting in. Back before I saw the tiny camera by the ceiling. Before I realized what the rope in the corner was for.
In the beginning, each hour that went by without my captor arriving was a relief.
By the third day, it hit me. They weren’t coming back. And the meager food left for me wasn’t going to be replenished.
That’s why the rope was there. If I couldn’t take a slow starvation, it gave me another out.
Not that I’d ever take it. No way. I’m hanging on until the bitter end.
I can’t even imagine how horrible it would be for Xavier to find me like that. And he will find me. I’m sure he’s out there looking right now, so worried, probably beating himself up for not being there that night. Blaming himself for something that wasn’t his fault. Like either of us could have ever expected something like this happening.
So I need to make sure I’m alive when he gets here. That’s why I’ve been rationing my food so carefully, only eating a half can of vegetables or tuna each day, along with one bottle of water that barely quenches my thirst. By my calculations, I’ll have enough food and water to last for two weeks.
Two weeks has to be enough time for Xavier to find me. Right?
I’ve been trying to figure out a way to escape, but I don’t have the strength to pull the chains from the wall. And the shackles are too tight to pull out of, even if I was double-jointed, which I’m not.
For a few hours, I debated trying to break my hand and foot, but I remember researching it for a book once, reading how, if you don’t break the bones in just the right spot, you won’t be able to get free, and the subsequent swelling can make things even worse.
On the fourth day, I managed to pry one board off a window, hoping to call for help. But there’s nothing around but trees and shrubs. No buildings, and no one to hear when I screamed until my voice went hoarse. No one to wander by and notice a hand waving at them, or a woman begging them for help.
It’s horrible, this feeling of utter helplessness.
At first, I kept thinking, why me?
But isn’t that what everyone thinks when something unimaginably awful happens to them? And really, up until now, my life’s been pretty blessed. Loving parents, a comfortable life, two jobs I love, friends, good health…
And Xavier. The most unexpected blessing of all.
That’s what I’m clinging to now. Everything I have to live for.
My parents, who have done everything in their power to make me happy. Who have always supported me, even when I announced that I wanted to get my MFA in creative writing instead of getting a business degree and working with my dad at his company. Who own every single one of my books and display them proudly in the living room, bragging about their author daughter to everyone who visits.
They probably don’t even know what happened to me. Not on their Antarctic expedition, the fortieth anniversary trip they’ve been planning for years. While I’m sure Xavier tried calling them, I doubt he’ll be able to get in touch. Not until they get back to port in Argentina.
Hopefully, I’ll see them when they get home. I’ll get to look at the hundreds of photos my dad took, something I would normally dread but now can’t wait to see.
When I start to get nauseous from hunger, I think about all the people I want to get back to. My parents. Amanda. Remy. My friend from high school, Kali. Xavier.
When the despair gets so heavy it’s hard to breathe, I think about Xavier. Not Xav, like his friends call him—I don’t mind it, but to me, he’s Xavier. Or when we’re in bed, snuggling after sex, sometimes I call him honey. He always laughs, saying he’s not sweet enough, but I disagree.
Under his tough exterior, he’s the sweetest man I know.
Since the sun came up, I’ve been thinking about our last date, trying to remember each perfect detail. It was our five-month anniversary, so Xavier wanted to do something special. I was expecting a nice dinner, or maybe a show in San Antonio, but what he chose was so much better.
When we showed up to the aquarium, I thought it was closed. The parking lot was nearly empty, and there were no visitors milling around inside. But when I asked Xavier about it, he just smiled and said, “It’s all ours for the night. I rented the entire place. We’ll have dinner by the tropical fish, and we can spend as long as you want exploring.”
It was so incredible, walking hand in hand with him, marveling at the colorful stingrays and majestic sharks and delicate corals, stopping every so often to kiss, my heart never feeling so full.
God . I miss him so much.
Why didn’t I tell Xavier I was falling in love with him? Why was I so scared of rejection?
And now…
My eyes burn, but I’m too dehydrated for tears.
But it’s time for me to move again, so I drag myself off the floor, using the wall for balance. While I know I’ll conserve more energy if I stay sitting down, I’m not willing to let my muscles get any weaker than they are already. Because if by some chance my captor returns, I want to be able to fight back, not just lay on the floor like a lump.
Or at least try to fight.
I’m weak, but I can still do some things. Poke the guy—at least, it was a man who took me—in the eyes. Kick him in the groin. Punch him in the throat. Something .
As I slowly make my way from one side of the cabin to the other, the chain attached to my ankle drags behind me. Each day it gets heavier, and a ridiculous thought strikes me— this would be one heck of a leg workout .
I can imagine the advertisement. Who needs expensive exercise equipment? Just loop chains around your ankles as you walk, and in a month, your butt and thighs will have never looked better.
A snort of laughter escapes; incongruous in such a dire situation.
But I have to do something to keep from losing my mind. Or is laughing to myself the first step towards it?
Just as I’m finishing my third lap across the cabin, I hear something different outside.
Not the occasional sounds of wildlife I’ve gotten used to, or the rustling of trees in the wind.
But something… mechanical.
I freeze, cocking my ear towards the window with the board missing.
The sound gets louder. Closer.
It’s an engine.
Oh.
Please.
A flame of hope flares to life, but just as quickly, cold terror douses it.
What if it’s not a rescue? What if it’s my captor coming to finish the job?
My heart rockets to double speed. My lungs don’t seem to want to work anymore.
I race over to the dwindling pile of food, frantically wondering if I can use the can opener as a weapon.
Fear grabs hold of me, its venomous claws digging in. My body shakes hard enough to make my teeth rattle.
Oh, please. Let this be Xavier. Or at least someone not coming to hurt me.
Outside the cabin, the car stops. Turns off. Doors open and shut.
Footsteps rustle. Not just one person, from the sound of them, but at least a few.
Please. Let it be Xavier and his team.
I almost call out, but my voice shrivels. What if it’s not him? What if it’s someone here to kill me?
Scuttling back against the wall, I clutch the can opener hard enough to hurt.
Can I stab someone with this? Would the pointy tip do enough damage?
Then I hear a voice. Low. Rumbly. Not Xavier.
“We need to check for explosives. It doesn’t look like there’s anything?—”
Another voice replies, “On it.”
Oh, please.
And then. The voice I’ve been dreaming of hearing.
It’s rough. Worried. Tinged with fear. “Lucy! Luce, we’re coming to get you. Can you call out to me? Tell me you’re okay?”
Xavier!
My first try, nothing comes out. And Xavier calls out again, more urgently this time, “Lucy! Can you talk to me? Please ?”
This time when I try, I croak, “Xavier. I’m here!”
There’s a pause before he replies, “I’m coming in as soon as I can, Luce. Erik’s just checking for any—” He stops. “We’ll get you out soon, I promise.”
Then, to someone else, he asks, “Is it safe?”
The other person, whose voice I now recognize as Erik’s, says, “It’s clear.”
A commanding order follows. “Get the crowbars. Hurry.” Dante, I think.
For the next few seconds, the only noise comes from boards being pried off the door. Wood cracks and splinters before being tossed to the ground with a heavy thud. Then there’s a heavy crash, and the door shudders. Then another.
I’m breathless as I stare at the door, hoping but not quite daring to believe.
Can it really be over?
Am I safe?
And then the door flies open, and Xavier— oh, Xavier! —comes rushing inside.
He’s not my sweet boyfriend, but an avenging warrior. Dressed all in black, he’s the dark and dangerous hero I’ve been waiting for. Tension comes off him in waves as he sprints across the cabin to me, his features carved stone and his gaze more intense than I’ve ever seen it.
Crashing to his knees beside me, he reaches for me, but at the last second hesitates. “Oh, Luce,” he groans, his face crumpling, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry it took this long to get here.”
“Xavier,” I whisper, my throat too tight to speak louder. “You’re here.”
He cups my cheek, his touch feather-light. “Of course, Luce. I’ve been searching. I—” Then his gaze sweeps over me, lingering at my ankle and wrist. Turning towards his friends, he shouts, “Help me get these off her! Now!”
But I can’t wait for that. I need to feel Xavier more than I need to breathe.
So I fling myself into his arms, burrowing as close as I can.
If I could climb inside him, I would.
Then his arms come around me, gentle but strong. And he presses his lips to the top of my head, murmuring, “I’ve got you. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
That’s when I start sobbing, all my emotions breaking free. The fear. Depression. Loneliness. Confusion. And the biggest of them, relief.
Xavier kisses my head again. “Oh, sunshine .” Pain laces his voice. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get you out of here any second. I promise.”
Someone touches my wrist, and I flinch at the unexpected contact. Xavier growls, “Careful!”
“Sorry,” the other person replies, his voice low and soothing. Then I peel my face away from Xavier’s shirt to see Niall kneeling beside us. His expression is all hard lines and angles, but his gaze is soft as he says, “I’m just going to get these things off you, Lucy.” One corner of his mouth tugs up. “I’m the best lock picker of the team. So I’ll have you free in a blink.”
Rhiannon crouches beside Niall, her expression filled with concern. “I’m going to check you out as soon as we get outside, okay? Since I’m a medic. Is that alright?”
I want to answer her. I want to thank Niall. But I can’t stop crying.
The shackle drops off my wrist, and shortly after, my ankle. And I cry even harder.
Xavier lifts me in his arms as he stands, one arm under my legs, the other behind my back. He hugs me close as he says gruffly, “I need cover to the car.”
“On it.” Niall lifts his chin at Xavier. “Rhi and I will cover you.”
Dante comes over and claps his hand on Xavier’s shoulder. “Matt and I will stay here to wait for the police. Erik, Niall, and Rhi will go to the hospital with you. We’ll catch up as soon as we can.”
Xavier nods at Dante. A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Okay.”
And then, the thing I prayed for finally happens.
Cradled in Xavier’s arms, flanked by Rhiannon and Niall on either side and Erik in front, we emerge from my terrible prison.
After days of dark, the sun burns my eyes. But this time, it’s a pain I welcome.
I’m free.
I knew Xavier would come for me, and he did.
Once we’re all in the SUV, Xavier arranges me in his lap while Rhiannon sits next to us, taking my pulse. Then he tenderly kisses my forehead. “You’re safe now, Luce. It’s time to go home.”
And with his arms around me, I finally feel safe.