1. Cassidy Winter
1. CASSIDY WINTER
I’ve lived long enough to know that nightmares do come true. But I never imagined that the one I fear most—the terror that has haunted me for years and has me gasping for air long after I wake up—would grip me like this.
I’m drowning.
Yet I’m not in the water.
“Where is the money, Cassidy?” one of my captors repeats, snatching the drenched towel off my face.
I cough and gasp, trying to catch pockets of air through the water clogging my throat.
The drug they shot into me had worn off, but somehow I wished I was still under the influence—so I wouldn’t have to live this nightmare.
I was tied to a rigid board, my feet slightly above my head, creating an incline. My arms stretch down low, my wrists secured.
The two men keep pouring cold water into my nose and mouth over a thick towel spread across my face. At this stage, I’m too weak even to entertain my panic. Every dollop of energy goes to keeping my lungs going.
Professionals like them don’t kidnap and demand money from a single mother who makes ends meet by working at a bar and running a small brewery. Harvey, my ex-husband, is the only man after me, and I have no doubt this debacle somehow links to him. This won’t be the first time.
I choke. “I don’t know what you’re t?—”
He slaps me.
“God, I hate that answer! I’ve heard it many times before. And you know how many changed their minds after I finished with them?”
The man squeezes my chin. “Eight out of ten. The other two didn’t even have a chance.” His round eyes are only inches away from mine when he leans down to me—it must be what an executioner’s stare looks like. “So don’t play dumb with me, lady!”
I swallow the remaining water, and for the first time in ages, I manage to take one full breath.
A bitter smile crosses his face. “Unlike your husband, we wouldn’t care if you live or die. We’ll get the money sooner or later. It’ll just be easier if you cooperate.”
I fucking knew it.
Damn you, Harvey Whitlock!
But the money matter is still puzzling me. If my ex had sent these men to find me, his only goal would be to take our daughter and me back. He should know I haven’t gotten enough cash to entice a small-time gambler, let alone a pro like him.
I give my captor a fuck-you stare as if he was my dickhead ex himself. The man then swings his arm hard. I wince, bracing for his fist. But his accomplice stops him. Obviously, despite declaring they wouldn’t care if I live or die, they seem to need me alive—or at least conscious.
“Cassidy, listen to me.” His accomplice takes over, leisurely walking around me. He might as well be the same man, for he looks identical. I’m sure they’re twins. When they speak, it sounds like the same person talking to himself. The only distinguishing feature among the brothers is the gunshot wound I inflicted on one of them on his arm. He’s the one talking to me now.
The injured twin circles me one more time, running his fingers on top of my soaked shirt. I don’t have my bottoms on; the two men captured me when I was changing after a shower. They want nothing of me that way—which I’m thankful for.
“You’re not on our death list,” he adds, “but we know how to hurt. We’ve studied you. What can I say? We like to know who our employers are, including their families.”
“Harvey Whitlock is my ex -husband,” I emphasize. “I haven’t seen him since I left him three years ago. If he promised you money, I don’t have it!”
“Well, Cassidy, we like to keep things simple. Ex-husband, husband, what’s the difference?”
His brother soon flanks him. Now I notice that the unwounded one has a relatively large mole just under his right ear. I’ll call him the mole man.
“If you’re thinking about protecting him, just don’t,” the wounded one carries on. “Your husband told us a long time ago that you’re afraid of water. We intend to use it until we get results. So one last time, where is the money?”
“I don’t know!”
Soon the towel is back on me. Like the first round, water enters every cavity it can find on my face. I gyrate to no avail as my cry turns into nothing but helpless gargles.
My drowning nightmare was a reality once—an ordeal I’ll never forget and keep being reminded of by the night terrors that follow. I was barely fourteen then.
Now, as a grown woman, in the hands of two strangers, I’m transported back to the place on earth where I should’ve died. It was the dead of night, as if I had dived into a black hole. Only it wasn’t hollow. The water was thick. I couldn’t inhale or exhale. As my airway closed, I heard my struggles amongst the sloshing water.
Just like I am now.
And the sensation keeps going. For sure, the brothers have gone on longer than the first round.
I thrash around, imploring the men to release me. But they thrive on my struggles. The time slows, but eventually, they seem to have had enough, and they let me off.
After coughing and retching violently, I beg. “Please… I don’t know!”
“A couple of days after we reported your whereabouts to your dear Harvey, he was at your house.” The man shows me a photo of that scumbag.
“If you saw him, then why didn’t you ask him about the money?” I huff, wincing to counter the sting in my lungs. “He hates me. Why would he give me his money?”
“If you’re not dumb, you would’ve figured out by now that he hasn’t paid us.”
As always, Harvey has left me to deal with his mess.
“I swear, I don’t know where he is. I’ll pay you the money. Just let me go.”
The mole man appraises me. “We’re not queuing up for our wages here, Cassidy.”
Maybe the men were still on good terms with my ex when they last saw him, or they hadn’t found out about Harvey’s newfound wealth—if it exists. Something must’ve gone astray. Now Harvey’s minions have turned on him.
“Then go fuck yourself!” I blurt.
His face reddens. Releasing a nasty bellow, he slaps the towel back on my face.
This time the water comes down like a fall.
The unforgiving passage of time forces me to draw everything I have—to defy death, to deny them a win. My stake is higher than riches. I have my daughter, and I have to stay alive for her.
Second by second, my defiance is crushed by the relentlessness of my torturers.
There’s only one person who can turn this around, and he’s not just a man.
He’s Sam Kelleher—a former Navy SEAL, a rescue specialist.
A lover who made me break my own rules.
And he’s the only one whom I would trust with my life.
But I don’t even dare wish that he was somehow thinking of me. He’s in the middle of a dangerous assignment and can’t afford to be distracted. The missing little girl needs him more than I do.
Yet, when there’s Sam, there’s always hope.
And I’m clinging to it no matter how thin the thread is.