Chapter 26 #2
Lazarus chuckles, genuinely amused. “Such spirit. Shame it’ll be wasted on some foreign buyer who doesn’t appreciate your fire.” He gestures to Vera and Trey. “Ensure they’re locked in. We’ll move the container soon.”
Vera nods, her gaze sliding across me with cold superiority. “Of course,” she murmurs, stepping toward the container door. She fiddles with a heavy padlock, securing the cage door from the outside.
Trey smirks, trailing a finger along the metal bars. “Such a pity,” he says softly. “I thought we might have had some fun with you two, but Lazarus’s plan is more… profitable.”
Sophia releases a shuddering breath. “Fuck you,” she spits out.
They ignore her, turning to file out of the container.
Morris’s men remain near the threshold, big arms crossed, eyes cold.
Lazarus turns once more, offering a mocking bow.
“Arrivederci,” he says, then vanishes through the door with a scrape of metal, leaving behind only the oppressive stench of diesel and the clang of our desperate hopes caving in.
I slump onto the floor, the ridged metal biting into my knees. My body shakes uncontrollably, rage and terror battling for space in my head. Sophia half-collapses against me, crying softly.
“Iz,” she mumbles between breaths. “What do we do? We have to do something.”
Gently, I rest my forehead against hers. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” I say, though my voice wavers. “Dean, Lincoln… they’ll find us. They have to.”
She squeezes me tighter. “There’s always something we can do.” But her gaze flicks to the towering walls of the container, the heavy bars, the locked steel door. “I just… don’t know what.”
I tighten my hold, pulling her closer. “We’ll fight,” I promise, though the practical side of me wonders how. Bound wrists, two of us against armed men, locked inside a shipping container. Our chances look grim.
Yet in the dim gloom, we cling to each other, sharing warmth, tears, and the faint flicker of hope.
Lincoln will come, I repeat in my head like a mantra.
Dean will come. They won’t let us vanish, not like this.
My mind conjures images of Lincoln’s determined face, of Dean’s fierce protectiveness, and for a moment, the panic recedes enough to let me think.
I rub my zip-tied wrists against the cage bars, testing if friction can wear them down.
The plastic stings against my skin, but I keep at it, fueled by the slightest chance that maybe we can free ourselves.
Meanwhile, Sophia tries to shift her position for comfort, wincing at the bruises on her thighs and arms. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out at the injustice.
Time crawls. The container’s heat intensifies, each breath more labored. We’re both dehydrated, fear gnawing at our insides. Sophia falls into an exhausted stupor for a while, head lolling against my shoulder, but I can’t sleep—my nerves remain too frayed.
Eventually, the container door creaks open again, and my heart leaps with dread, imagining a final push to load us onto a ship.
But it’s just one of Morris’s men—alone—tossing a couple of water bottles onto the floor near the cage.
Neither of us can pick them up with our hands bound, but maybe we can maneuver them if we’re careful.
The man sneers, unimpressed by our plight, then leaves as quickly as he arrived.
We manage to tip one bottle with our feet, rolling it enough that I can press the opening to my lips, sipping water in messy gulps. Sophia does the same. It’s humiliating, doing it like animals, but we have no choice.
The heavy hush returns. Outside, the dull clang of metal on metal suggests forklift trucks or cranes moving cargo around.
The occasional distant shout drifts in, men working on the docks.
My skin crawls with the knowledge that we’re so close to civilization—there are probably people walking around out there, oblivious to the hell inside this container.
“We’ll get out of this,” I whisper, though the quiver in my voice betrays my own doubts.
She nods. “I know we will.”
“I’ll keep trying to see if I can wear these ties down. Maybe break them,” I breathe, tears pricking my own eyes. “It’s not working well, but who knows, crazier things have happened.”
Sophia glances around and then spots a jagged piece of metal closer to her than me. “I’ll try this.” She rubs her zip ties against the metal.
Seconds stretch into minutes, minutes into an eternity of suffocating dread. The inevitability of a ship departure weighs on my mind, the horrifying reality of what Lazarus Delgado plans for us looming like a black storm cloud.
Yet in the midst of that despair, I cling to one shining thread: Lincoln and Dean.
I replay every memory of their bravery, their determination.
Dean, unstoppable when someone threatens his family.
Lincoln, ex-military and unwavering in his protectiveness.
They’ll come for us, I tell myself. They must.
I glance at Sophia as she keeps trying to break free. “We can’t give up,” she murmurs, voice determined. “Dean always told me… never lose hope.”
My own tears slip free, dripping onto the container floor. “He’s right. We won’t.”
“Got it,” Sophia declares triumphantly as she is able to break free from her ties. “Let me do yours,” she whispers, and my smile widens at the thought of breaking free.