Chapter Twenty-Two - Elise
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Elise
A cool breeze flows up my loose shirt and soothes my still-stinging back.
Sitting on the edge of a bench, I take in the beautiful flowers and let the sweet aroma calm me. Even in the darkness, the arrangements are breathtaking, and I appreciate them even more now that I know I have to leave.
When I asked Ryder if I could visit the garden before we go, I hadn’t expected him to say yes, let alone open my bedroom door and tell me to come back up whenever I was finished.
Ryder gave me a small smile when he noticed my apprehension. “My instructions were to assist you in any way you need. You need some time in the garden? Go ahead. I’ll come check on you when I’m done packing up.”
I left before he could change his mind, resisting the urge to thank him. Getting down the staircase by myself was difficult, but I much preferred it to asking for help.
Now, I sit perched on my favorite bench, reveling in the nature surrounding me. It’s so much easier to breathe out here.
I hope my next prison will have a garden, too.
I have no idea where Joshua plans to drag me to next, but it doesn’t really matter. We could be traveling an hour away or an ocean away, and I still wouldn’t know the difference. It’s been proven repeatedly that I am helpless, so it’s silly to worry as though I can do anything to change it.
I can’t.
My mind and body are exhausted, but the idea of sleep is far from comforting.
As it is, lying down comfortably will be a challenge, but that’s not what concerns me most. I know that as soon as I close my eyes, I’ll be met with relentless nightmares.
Between the feeling of Tripp’s hands on my body and the whip on my back…
I’m not sure if I’m ever going to sleep peacefully again.
I can’t stop imagining what would’ve happened had Joshua not come in when he did. Tripp had me at his mercy, helpless to do anything but obey his cruel demands.
He wouldn’t have stopped.
Desperate to distract my mind, I stare at the stars splayed across the sky and recall the last time I was here at night.
Joshua had been so considerate during my panic attack, so vulnerable when confiding in me about his sister, and so tender when kissing me.
The memories seem so far away, though the events occurred only a few nights ago.
The same question plays on a loop in my head: how did everything go so wrong?
The sound of approaching footsteps pulls me from my thoughts, but I know without looking that it’s Ryder.
He sits on the far side of the bench, placing a tray between us. “I noticed you didn’t eat, so I got you some warm food.”
I survey the tray, and my mouth waters. I haven’t eaten anything all day, and the chicken noodle soup looks incredible.
Joshua brought me food when he came to see me a few hours ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at the peace offering, let alone accept it.
Lifting the tray onto my lap, I bring the spoon to my mouth and taste it. The small movements elicit pain, but I hide it as best I can.
I must not be doing very well because Ryder gestures to the pills beside the bowl.
“You’re due for another dose,” he tells me. “They’ll help.”
Instead of responding, I simply toss the pills into my mouth and chase them with water. I don’t have the energy to argue with him.
“It’s almost time to go. All your things have been packed.”
Though I’m not in the mood for conversation, my curiosity gets the better of me. “Why are we leaving tonight? Why not in the morning?”
I’m surprised when he answers me without hesitation. “We don’t know what your dad has planned, so we want to be gone before he can make a move to get you.”
There’s not much I can say to that, so I stay silent.
“Traveling is going to be very uncomfortable with your injuries. You’ll be able to lay on your stomach in the backseat, but it’ll still be painful. If you want, I can give you something that will make you sleep for the ride.” I can hear the reluctance in his voice.
He knows I won’t like that option, and he’s not wrong, but it doesn’t really matter.
Either way, they’re taking me away tonight, so why not let them knock me out? The alternative is enduring a who-knows-how-long car ride where every bump and turn intensifies my pain. Besides, maybe this way, I can get some dreamless sleep.
“I know you probably don’t—”
“Give me the drugs.”
Ryder studies my blank expression. “Are you sure?”
I nod and focus on eating.
The silence that settles between us is a comfortable one that reminds me of our lunches in the break room.
“Why did you have Jay bandage my finger when I cut it in the kitchen?” I angle my chin to my shoulder, looking over my back as much as possible. “Obviously, you’re more than capable of administering first aid.”
After several moments, I assume he won’t answer me, but he nods to himself and meets my gaze.
“Mr. Moreno ordered that no one talk to you while you work. When you cut your finger, I used it as a loophole to introduce you to Jay.”
“But why?”
Ryder shrugs. “Jay’s a good man. I figure you haven’t seen enough good lately.”
He says the words like they’re no big deal, but they knock the air from my lungs. Is it possible that I’ve misjudged Ryder?
I feel a sense of remorse when I think about how I spoke to him back in my room. He’s not innocent in all of this, but it’s not his fault either.
“I was harsh earlier, and I shouldn’t have been. I know you’re only trying to help.” I say, careful not to apologize.
He frowns down at me. “Do you feel guilty?”
I avoid his gaze.
Ryder shakes his head. “You have every right to be pissed at me and everyone here. Don’t feel guilty for your self-preservation.”
Shouldn’t he be encouraging me to comply and submit? Why would he give affirmation to my anger?
A yawn escapes me, and I decide that I’m too tired to figure it out. Seeing my exhaustion, Ryder holds out his arm for support, and I wordlessly accept it. Though I loathe needing help, I’m too weak to go far alone.
At first, I think we’re returning to my room, but Ryder guides me down unfamiliar hallways.
My back is throbbing, and I’m ready to rest when we arrive at a thick metal door.
Ryder opens it, and we enter the spacious garage.
The concrete room holds several cars in various shapes and sizes, but my attention is drawn to four black SUVs that are being packed up by soldiers that I only vaguely recognize, though none of them acknowledge us.
We approach one of the vehicles, and Ryder opens the door to reveal that the back seat is covered in pillows and blankets.
Ryder opens his mouth to speak when the door we just walked through opens again. Joshua stands in the doorway holding a bottle of water.
His eyes find me and widen hopefully as if something has happened in the past few hours that erased the torture I endured because of him. What’s worse is that he looks so tragically handsome that my heart’s ache is briefly worse than my back, and I despise him and myself for the feeling.
“Elise,” he says, coming closer.
I step behind Ryder, using him to shield me from the man I so desperately don’t want to see.
“Ryder,” I whisper, panic rising in my chest. “Please, I don’t want to talk to him.”
Though my words are quiet, they stop Joshua in his tracks.
My eyes are cast down, and Ryder leaves me, walking to Joshua. They speak too quietly for me to hear, and when they’re finished, Joshua sighs.
I hear the phrase, “take care of her,” before Ryder turns back to me. I lift my eyes but drop them again when I see Joshua’s apologetic face.
I can’t deal with his remorse.
He should feel bad.
His steps retreat, and Ryder returns to my side, holding two small pills and the bottle of water that Joshua must have given him.
“Here, take these.”
I accept them. “How long will I be out?”
“It should last the six-hour drive.”
“I don’t want him near me,” I tell Ryder with pleading eyes.
“He won’t be,” he assures me. “I’ll be driving you myself.”
I lower my eyes to my hands, which shake despite the fact that I’m willing them to stay still.
“Hey,”—Ryder lowers himself to find my eyes—“I promise nothing will happen to you. I won’t let him come near you for as long as you need, okay?” His eyes are earnest, and I believe him.
“Why are you protecting me? He’s your boss. Shouldn’t you let him do whatever he wants?” I know that Joshua gave him orders to assist me in any way I need, but something about how he cares for me seems personal.
“You were right, saying we aren’t friends, but I like to think we were starting to be. I’m sorry you got hurt.”
For a moment, I’m stunned into silence. I never would have expected this man to offer me his apology and friendship. Yet, here he is, gaze filled with nothing less than perfect sincerity.
“Thank you,” I mumble, unsure how else to respond.
I take a deep breath before popping the pills into my mouth.
Ryder helps me into the car, and I lie down on my stomach, turning my neck toward the windshield and curling my legs uncomfortably. Ryder barks orders at the men before he climbs into the front seat and starts the engine.
The car pulls away, and my eyelids grow heavy.
“Ryder?” I mutter before the darkness can pull me under.
“Yes?”
My words are slurred with exhaustion. “Where are we going?”
He hesitates before answering, “Mr. Moreno’s private residence.”
The lull of sleep is strong, but a new wave of panic hits me. “What?”
I can’t see Ryder’s face from here, but I imagine he’s regretting telling me that when he hears the nerves shake my voice in that one simple word.
“I was serious, Elise. I won’t let him near you until you’re ready. I know you don’t have a reason to, but I’m asking you to trust me.” His ever-calming voice has my heart slowing to a normal rate.
Again, it’s not like I have a choice.
So, I let the darkness take over.
I’m back in the basement.
Not only can I see every detail in vivid clarity—the cracks in the concrete floor, the row of light bulbs all lit aside from the fourth one to the left, and the hook-like knife that’s so close to the edge of the table of tortures that I wait for it to slide off and clatter to the floor—but I smell, taste, and feel the room too.
The stomach-turning scent of blood mixes with the sweat pouring down my face as a result of the sheer will it takes to keep pulling air into my lungs.
The taste of bile as it creeps up my dry throat after I’m no longer able to scream.
The heaviness that comes from both fear and the realization that I am completely and utterly alone weighs down on me.
I can see myself in an out-of-body experience. My hands are chained above me, my clothes torn and disheveled, my head lowered in defeat.
I want to run toward the girl, unchain her bruised wrists, cover her beaten body, and wipe her never-ending tears, but I can’t.
My feet are frozen to the ground, and there’s nothing I can do as the door bursts open and Tripp storms toward the chained version of myself.
He takes the whip, savagely swinging it down on my back, and though I’m watching it happen several feet away, I can feel the agonizing burn of every lash.
I watch in silent horror as my body is dropped to the floor and my clothes are pulled aside.
My eyes flit between the door and Tripp, waiting for Joshua to burst in and save me from the torture like he did before.
Where is he?
It takes every fiber of my being to call out for Joshua, but even as I do, the sound is muffled and murky, like I’m trapped underwater.
Tripp, who had ignored me in favor of my chained body until now, turns at the sound of my weak call.
Only, it isn’t Tripp at all.
Joshua’s dark, wrathful gaze pierces me—harsher than the whip ever could.
He says nothing, but the message might as well blare like an alarm for the entire base to hear.
No one is coming to save you.
Joshua takes a step toward me, and I try desperately to force myself to run, hide, do anything at all, but I can’t.
With each step, he calls my name, and I shake my head fervently, pleading with my eyes for him to stay back.
When he’s only a few feet away, I can’t stop him from reaching for me.
“Elise!” I startle awake to Ryder’s firm but gentle hand on my shoulder.
I force myself to take a deep breath as I assess my surroundings. I’m still lying in the car, sunlight streaming through the windows that were pitch black when we began the drive.
I meet Ryder’s worried gaze at the same moment I realize the car has stopped moving.
“We’re here.”