Chapter Two
Caroline Craness
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HAD THERE EVER BEEN any feeling worse than the hopeless frustration burgeoning in my chest? Though, even as the question flitted through my head, I knew the answer. It was as obvious as my exaggerated heart rate and nervous anxiety.
Of course there had been worse.
All the months I’d spent languishing in Fortorus, struggling to get by on the rotten rations and fearing the brunt of every sentry and commander who passed me by had conditioned more fear into me than any of the minutes that had passed since Adam Harper had been rushed to hospital.
Yet staring out of the window into the black of night, I couldn’t recall any terror as tightly wound as the uneasy serpent curling inside me at that moment.
“Please.” I glanced back at the officer left in charge of me in Kaspar’s absence. “Is there any update on Adam?”
Michel’s jaw tightened. “Nothing since the last time you asked me.” Five minutes ago.
He never said the final three words, but they were there, flashing in his eyes.
“But I can’t just sit here.” I rose from my chair and paced toward the wall. “It’s been hours. There must be some news!”
Not for the first time, I glanced toward the door, considering whether I should just walk out and find the hospital myself. I wasn’t in custody, after all. They couldn’t hold me there.
“Sit down, Miss Craness.” Michel blew out an irritated breath. “And please, do not think about leaving. You are a guest in our country, but those privileges come with certain responsibilities.”
My throat dried at his thinly veiled threat. I’d just about had enough of men throwing them my way. “What does that mean?”
“It means, as a refugee, you must stay where we tell you.” He leaned back against his chair. “We are trying to look after you.”
Releasing the air I’d been holding on to, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream or cry.
“But please!” All I could do was repeat the same message over and over again until the balding man understood. “I have to know how he is.”
“Miss.” His hand rose in irritation. “There is nothing more I can tell you until I hear from—”
As though the device had heard him, his phone burst into life, interrupting his rebuttal. Brow furrowing, he foraged in his pocket for the phone and answered the call.
“Ja?” His expression was weary.
I held my breath, paralyzed to the spot as I waited to hear if the call pertained to Adam’s condition.
Please.
I sent the silent prayer to whatever entity was watching over me.
God hadn’t done much to help me during those horrific days of incarceration, but I supposed, in the end, he’d sent Adam my way, and he’d set me free.
I would always be thankful for that grace, though I still couldn’t conceive of a future without the loving disciplinarian who’d rocked my world.
Watching Michel, my throat dried. I sensed he was deliberately trying to stay calm and not reveal the contents of the conversation. Not that I could have understood his words anyway.
“Sie mochte ihn unbedingt sehen.” He glanced at me as he said that, the gesture conveying that he was talking about me.
Although I couldn’t understand what he was saying, it was clear he enjoyed babysitting me as much as I had relished being stuck there with him.
Another pause followed, when he presumably received instructions, and the apprehension in my muscles skyrocketed. What the hell were they talking about? Was Harper okay or not?
Oh, God.
I turned back to the chair that had been my home since they’d taken Harper to the hospital.
Crossing the floor to the window, I tried not to dwell on those final memories of him, but there was little else to hang on to.
If the worst happened and that turned out to be the final time I ever laid eyes on my commander general, then those recollections would be all I had.
That’s not true. I reached for the back of the chair, allowing it to prop me up. I have much more than only that. I have all the times he held me, spanked me, and loved me.
We might not have known each other for long, but in the limited time we had, it felt as though we’d loved for a lifetime.
“Wir sehen uns dann.” Michel’s voice drew me back to the present, and glancing up, I noticed he’d finished the call.
“What’s happened?” I gripped the edge of the chair, knowing I’d need its support if the news was anything but good. “How’s Adam?”
“Harper has woken up.” He rose from his chair and slid the device back into his pocket.
“He’s okay?” Tears brimmed at the update.
“The doctors are monitoring him, but ja, he is awake.”
Thank God. I squeezed my eyes closed, allowing a singular tear to make its way along my cheek. “Can I see him?”
“I told Kaspar you would ask.” He snorted as though there was anything even vaguely amusing about my predicament.
“And?” I pinned him with the full weight of my attention as my eyes flew open. “Please say I can. He’s given you the information you want, hasn’t he? He doesn’t deserve to suffer on his own.”
I faltered at my plea. The concept of what Harper ‘deserved’ wasn’t lost on me, and neither was the irony that I was making the appeal. As commander general, he’d overseen numerous horrendous ordeals on thousands of women who hadn’t merited the torment, yet there I was, defending him.
“Kaspar has agreed you can visit, but not at this hour.” Michel motioned to the window.
The dawn appeared to be breaking somewhere on the horizon, the first shards of daylight bleeding into what looked like a walled garden.
“We can visit him at eleven o’clock.”
My gaze shot to the clock on the wall behind me, registering the early hour. “But that’s more than six hours away.”
“Exactly.” He signaled to the bed against the wall behind me. “You should sleep until then. I shall be back to take you to the hospital.”
“Sleep?” I shook my head as though the idea was preposterous.
“Ja.” He sighed. “When was the last time you rested?”
I strained my memory to recall. Harper and I had enjoyed a lie-in at the house we’d rented from Fabian, but that seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Precisely.” Michael’s voice was soft. “Rest now. You shall see your commander general soon enough.”
“Okay.” Whatever fight was left in me faded. I’d have much preferred the certainty of visiting Harper then, but I understood it was the middle of the night. No doubt he needed to rest as much as Michel and me. “And you’ll come back for me?”
I hadn’t fostered much love for the officer who’d kept me penned in the room they’d held Harper in, but in that moment, his word was all I had.
“Ja, I will come back. There is a restroom through that door, should you require one.” He nodded before he headed for the door. “And don’t think about leaving, Miss Craness. There will still be an officer outside your room.”
“Right.” I watched as he slipped outside, his freedom to come and go as he pleased stinging more than it should have.
After so long unjustly imprisoned, I supposed I should have got used to the discrimination, but the stabbing sense of unfairness suggested otherwise.
Standing there in the shadows of the room, my thoughts returned to the bag of money we’d left at Fabian’s house.
I had to assume Kaspar and her team hadn’t stumbled upon its contents.
They’d surely have mentioned the huge stash of cash, gun, and fake documents if they had.
Whatever happened next, I needed to get back to the house and take possession of that bag.
Beyond Harper’s health, it was the most important consideration for our future.
Stop worrying. It was Harper’s voice that gently chided in my mind. I’m alive. That’s all that really matters.
Wiping my eyes with the heel of my hand, I leaned into the succor of that news. He was awake, and Michel hadn’t mentioned anything that concerned me more than the head injury I might have inadvertently given him.
“Maybe Michel just didn’t tell me how bad it was.”
The idea stuck in my throat, clawing at me.
Perhaps the information Michel had relayed wasn’t entirely accurate, but I had to assume he wouldn’t outright lie to me about Harper’s condition.
What would have been the point? I was going to discover the truth sooner or later, and then he’d have had my wrath to deal with, as well as my agonizing grief.
“No,” I scolded myself. “Adam’s okay. He just needs rest, and so do I.”
Glancing around the room, I considered pouring myself a glass of water before bed, but I decided against it.
Much though I was loath to admit it, Michel was right.
I did need to sleep, and with the good news about Harper, perhaps I’d be lucky enough to grab a few hours of rest before I saw him again.
I headed for the bed and tugged back the white covers. The bed was supposed to have been Harper’s for the night, yet, due to the twisted, unforeseen circumstances, it was mine. Sliding under the blankets, I relaxed my head against the pillow.
If God really had heard my prayer and acted to save Harper, then maybe he’d enact another miracle our way and see us back in the same bed before too long.