16. Bianca
Chapter 16
Bianca
S ilas is still unconscious.
I’m not sure how long ago I came to, waking on a cot exactly like the one he’s currently sleeping on. At least the distance isn’t too far given the cells are about the size of a large bathroom stall. I’d been able to stretch far enough that I could reach through and feel his faint pulse.
In the time I’ve been awake, I’ve checked every single bar of my cell. I’ve searched for a way out, for a loose spot, for anything that might mean freedom for us. Unfortunately, this place is locked down. Not that I would expect anything else from River. The man is nothing if not consistent.
There’s nothing in either cell that can be used as any kind of weapon. We’re utterly defenseless. Though, in a pinch, I suppose the bucket they gave us that’s supposed to double as a toilet might come in handy. Can’t imagine one would be doing much fighting after taking a literal bucket of human waste to the face.
I pocket that thought for later, focusing on all the reasons I have to panic.
Aside from being held captive who knows where, there’s the fact that I’m no longer wearing the green gown I’d been in. Someone changed me into shorts and a T-shirt that must have been pilfered from my dresser when River had been in my house. Which, of course, is not nearly as upsetting as knowing someone changed me.
Silas, too. He’s in jeans and a black T-shirt, his suit nowhere to be seen.
A throaty groan sounds behind me, so I whirl and rush across, gripping the bars between us. Silas sits up, a bit wobbly at first, then he rubs his head and looks around the cell. He pales.
“You’re not alone,” I tell him, stepping into his line of sight. “I’m here.”
His breathing turns ragged and he sucks in breath after breath, his hands tightening on the edge of the cot.
“Easy, Silas.” I reach through the bars, stretching as far as I can, so I can touch him, but it’s only enough to brush my fingers across the white knuckles of his hand. “You’re not alone,” I repeat, then start to draw my hand back. If he’s in the middle of a PTSD attack, touching him could make it worse.
But before I can fully get my hand through the bars, he reaches out and grips mine, then gets to his knees in front of the barrier. Fingers wrapping around my hand, he holds on to me but still doesn’t say a thing. His head remains hung low, and I tighten my grip, hoping it will help ground him.
Silas spent a month in a cell being tortured by River. I cannot even imagine what he’s feeling right now. The panic he must be experiencing, being right back in one, and once again at River’s mercy.
On impulse, I reach out with my other hand and, ignoring the pain of my still injured arm, manage to caress the side of his face. Silas leans into my touch, and his breathing begins to slow.
Then, what feels like hours later but is likely only minutes, Silas withdraws his hand and sits back. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I take a seat on my cot directly across from him. “I don’t know where we are, but I’m pretty sure we’re not in Boston anymore.”
“They drugged us,” Silas replies. “And flew us out on a helicopter.”
“You were awake for that part?”
He turns his head to look at me. “I carried you.”
Knowing that even though I was unconscious, Silas carried and protected me, means more than I can say. “We’re going to get out of this. Just like last time.”
Silas doesn’t look certain.
“God is going to bring us through this.”
“Then why let us get taken in the first place?” he snaps, cheeks turning red. “Eloise is going to think I abandoned her. Who knows if I’ll ever see her again.” Silas stands and begins to pace, looking for weapons or any way to break free.
But I tried every bar.
There are none that are loose enough to break free. The prison is solid. The wall to our back is made of brick. We need to wait until someone comes down here to take us out of the cells. As soon as they do, we can make our escape.
Or die trying.
A door scrapes open, and footsteps echo down the hall. I move to the bars closest to Silas’s side, refusing to retreat to the back of the cell as my uncle and Yarrow come into view.
“Well, well, finally awake. Have a nice nap?”
“Where are we?” I demand.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Yarrow tosses a pair of handcuffs into my cell, then turns to Silas. “Stick your hands through the bars so she can put those on, big boy,” he orders Silas.
“Why don’t you come in and put them on me?” Silas holds up his wrists.
Yarrow grins at him, a carnal smile, and for a second I wonder if he plans to take Silas up on the challenge. But apparently, he’s a lot smarter than he used to be because instead of opening the cell, he crosses his arms. “Nah, I’d rather not.”
“Put them on,” River warns. “It won’t be like that forever, but until I’ve fully explained everything, you’ll wear them.”
I bend over and pick up the handcuffs, then turn to Silas. He still hasn’t moved, his wrists out, though his gaze is on me.
“I’m sorry I got you into this.”
He doesn’t respond, just crosses over and holds his wrists out so I can reach them through the bars. Even as I bind his hands together, he remains silent. I rub my thumbs over the insides of his wrists, hoping the contact will soothe what I imagine is the start of another panic attack. His only response is the slight flaring of his nostrils as he takes a deep, steadying breath.
I step away and turn toward them. “We good now?”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Yarrow winks and opens the door to my cage, then moves around to Silas’s. We step out at the same time, and I rush forward to walk beside Silas as we head toward the exit, though I do allow him to exit first and follow behind. Something I wish I hadn’t done as soon as Yarrow falls into step behind me. “You grew up good, Selena.”
“Bianca,” I snap.
“Excuse me?”
Stopping, I whirl on him. “Selena died a long time ago. You’ll call me Bianca.”
“No, I don’t think I will, Selena. ”
“Stop, you two,” River says. “Names are not exactly a priority right now. If she wants to be called Bianca, just do it.”
I turn toward my uncle. Why is he taking my side? What game is he playing at?
“Fine, boss.” Yarrow leans in. “But Selena will still be my favorite.”
My blood ices as my stomach churns. The last time we were this close, he thought he was going to take what I did not freely offer. Does he remember that he threatened to kill me as he laid on the floor, writhing in pain?
“This way.” River starts up some steps, ascending to the next floor. Silas pauses at the bottom of the stairs and nods for me to go ahead. I do without hesitation, grateful for the distance between Yarrow and myself.
Yarrow chuckles. “Fine, big boy. Nice and protective, aren’t we?”
We hit the top of the stairs and sunlight momentarily hurts my eyes since they’re adjusted to the dim light of the basement. But a few seconds and some rapid blinking later, and I see that we’re standing in a large, gleaming fully stocked kitchen. Terra cotta tile covers the floor, and the countertops are made of thick pale granite with flecks of gold and copper veins.
There is a woman standing at the stove wearing a long dress, a black apron over the front of it. She pays us no mind as we move through her space and out into an open dining room. River gestures toward two chairs on the right side of the table. “Please, have a seat.”
Silas pulls out my chair, and I sit, then he takes a seat beside me as Yarrow sits across from us and River takes the seat at the head of the table—at my right side.
Before I even have the chance to ask where we are, two women dressed in black and white dresses similar to those you’d see maids wearing in old movies come in with two plates. They set one in front of me and one in front of Silas, then rush away to retrieve the others.
“Where—”
“Not yet,” River interrupts. “Patience, Bianca.” His choosing to call me Bianca is a game, of that I’m sure, but it does still give me an illusion of control, something I’m quite grateful for at this particular moment.
The women return and place a plate in front of River and one in front of Yarrow, while the woman who’d been in front of the stove comes in with four mugs of coffee. She sets one in front of each of us, then the waitress pours steaming hot liquid into them before all of the women vacate the room.
“Good. Now we may talk.”
I bow my head. Lord, thank you for this food and for keeping us alive. Please continue to watch over us and guide us so that we may safely return home. Amen. When I raise my head, everyone is looking at me.
“I didn’t take you for a praying woman,” River says. “If that is what you were just doing.”
“You don’t know me at all.” I pluck a berry from the plate and slip it into my mouth. The flavor is beyond appreciated, given the hunger burning a hole in my stomach.
“Well then, I do hope to change that.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” I reply. “Because I don’t plan to be here long enough for that to happen.”
River chuckles. “Dear, you will be here as long as I deem necessary.” His gaze turns serious. “Now. Onto business. You’re here because I need the services of both of you.”
“Services?” My thoughts drift back to the last time this organization needed my ‘services.’ I’d let their leader die—something I’m fairly certain I would do again.
“You’re a spectacular doctor, niece, and I find myself in need of someone to help innocent people who are struggling with health complications and injuries.”
“Innocent people?” I snort. “I very much doubt they’re innocent if they’re associated with you.”
River grins. “You don’t know me either, Bianca, so do us both a favor and don’t pretend you do.”
“And what about me?” Silas questions. “What services do you think I can offer you? I’m not a doctor.”
“No, but you work private security,” River replies. “And it just so happens that Bianca here is going to need a bodyguard.”
“I thought these people were innocent?”
“Some of them are,” he replies. “Others are less appreciative of what I offer them here and would just as soon take you out to get to me.”
“So you want me to play the part of bodyguard? You have men for that, why choose me?”
“Two reasons. One, because you want her alive and safe,” River replies. “My men are more volatile, and I need Bianca to survive long enough to do her job.”
“And two?” Silas asks.
“Your presence is motivation to Bianca. She either cooperates, or you pay the price.”
Dread nearly drowns me where I stand. “Then what? You’re just going to let us go?”
“I am,” River replies. “As soon as I’m finished here, I’ll return you both to that tiny coastal town you seem to love so much.”
“And our people there? Are you still lurking outside waiting to burn the place to the ground?”
River shakes his head. “I pulled my men last night. Your town is safe so long as you do exactly what it is I’m asking.”
“Let me get this straight.” Silas leans back in his chair, his gaze hard. “You want Bianca to play doctor and me to keep her alive while she does it.”
“That’s correct.” River crosses his arms.
“And how long is this supposed to last?”
River looks to Yarrow.
“Projections show us being wrapped up here within two months.”
“Two months?” I nearly choke on the words. “We can’t be here for two months! We have lives. Jobs.”
“It’s better than missing the rest of yours by being six feet under, wouldn’t you say?” Yarrow demands.
“You can’t honestly expect us to be away for two months.” I look at Silas, who looks about ready to burn this entire place to the ground with us inside.
“I expect you to do what is asked of you. If you don’t, and you let me down in any way, we’ll take our frustrations out on those you care about in that little town of yours. One at a time.” River looks from me to Silas, then back to me. “And there’s more.” He takes a bite of his bacon, then drinks some of his coffee.
“More than forcing us to walk away from our lives for two months?” I think of little Eloise, of how confusing it will be for the small child when her uncle—the only guardian she’s ever known—doesn’t come home.
Of Lance, who will be missing two of his people—his friends.
Michael.
Jaxson.
Elijah.
Our team is alone and vulnerable. I can only hope that since they overheard River’s threats at the dinner, they’ve taken precautions.
“You planning to elaborate?” I snap. “Or do I need to read your mind?”
River glances at Yarrow. “Would you like to do the honors?” he asks.
“Absolutely.” Yarrow leans forward and rests both hands on the table. “Selena Culvers, should the day come when I refer to you as such, you will be playing the part of doting fiancée.”