5. Dove
five
Dove
Present Day
A wise philosopher once said the angel of death sits on every word, and that when your breath runs its course, it comes down on a cloud of ashes to retrieve your heart. Though I can’t see anything past the darkness of the four walls surrounding me, that’s exactly what I’m feeling right now: my chest being broken in two, violated by a pain so sharp that my body shakes with rage, fighting to contain it.
I don’t know how many days have passed. They won’t bring me light. They won’t give me air. Just a piece of stale bread and water at infrequent intervals to keep me on the threshold of life. I stare into nothingness and pieces of me flash before my eyes. Faces I know, faces I love…
My mother in the hospital bed. My brother. My best friend, Sterling.
And the man who owns my dying heart…
I see Rowan’s face in my mind and my limbs ache to run into his arms. To be held tight to his chest, where all is right with the world. Where I’m warm and safe and nothing can touch me. But the more I think of him the worse I feel when his image fades away.
The echoing sound of the chains wrapped around my ankles brings me out of my memories, and I fall apart.
They remind me I’m here, and that all is lost.
My brain loses focus, and his face vanishes completely like a leaf swept into a powerful stream. They drugged me again. The same syringe sinks into my neck every day whenever they want to numb me. It’s been like this since they took me and questioned me about everything. They asked about Rowan—about where he lives, and what his plans are with the war in the Ridge. They asked so many things, and my answer was the same every single time— I don’t know .
I know nothing at all, and I finally understand why Rowan kept so much from me.
Where is Cole? Where is my brother? Why isn’t he helping me?
The thought of him knowing I’m here and doing nothing about it hurts almost the same as knowing he was dead. I keep thinking maybe he’s not here at all, that maybe seeing him was just another hallucination from the lack of oxygen in this cell.
But… I know… I know what I saw…
I sit on the hard cement with my head between my knees, drawing circles on the floor with my finger. I’m cold… so unbelievably cold. I’ve stopped fighting it. I’ve let the cool air run freely down my spine, bringing a sharp sting into my throat that I can only guess is the start of an infection.
I pray that the illness takes me out faster than these monsters. I often hear people screaming outside these walls, waking me up from when I give my eyes a rest in the dark. I don’t know what’s out there, but I’m not at all interested in finding out.
A man’s voice closes in, and it takes everything in me to lift my head and push myself farther into the wall behind me. The metal door at the other end of the room creaks, and a light flashes in my face. My eyes burn and a throbbing headache sets into the back of my skull.
Big combat boots walk inside, their owner stopping and crouching next to me.
“Look at you, poor thing. You’re freezing,” the man says, his voice low and not at all endearing. A shiver runs along my nerve endings, and this time I know it’s not from the cool air. Whoever this is, he doesn’t give a damn about how cold I am.
Please… I plead with my eyes, knowing full well it won’t matter to him. That I don’t matter.
His hand goes to my hair, then to my chin, forcing my face up to look at him. My whole body shakes with quiet sobs. I try to get a look at him, but my eyes snap to the door that opens again. Another man comes in, bringing a wooden chair and dropping it close by.
“Have fun,” he laughs, shaking his head in amusement. The door barely closes in his wake, letting a trail of dim light from the hallway seep into the room. I look back at the man touching my face, seeing him smile. The lines under his eyes and the sagging skin covering his cheeks tell me he’s older than the rest. He smells like burned hair and gasoline, and it makes me gag instantly. A knot twists in my stomach, and I push myself deeper into the wall until there’s no more space in between.
“Now, now,” he says. “That’s not how it’s going to be. I’ll give you a few seconds to pull yourself together. And then I want you on my knee, right—” He gets up, only to take a seat on the chair in front of me. Patting his leg, he continues, “—here.”
He’s going to put his hands on me. He’s going to rape me, right here, right now.
Tears drip down my cheeks as I choke on another sob.
“K-Kill you,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Rowan will kill you.”
His voice comes out ragged as he laughs, throwing his head back.
“I take it you haven’t watched the news in a while, have you?”
What the hell does that mean?
“Out there, he couldn’t protect you. But in here… I can. I can keep you warm. Fed. Rested. Maybe even move you into my bed upstairs. All you have to do is sit on this knee.” He leans back in the chair, parting his knees as he looks down at my trembling figure. “I’ll give you three more seconds to decide, and then we can do it the hard way if you prefer.”
I hear him and the threat registers, but my thoughts go back to what he said before this. What did he mean about watching the news? My mind conjures up the most horrific situations I can think of, and all of them result in Rowan being dead.
I shake my head, not willing to accept it. He’s messing with me. He has to be.
“Three…” He starts counting down, pulling me back into the present. My heart thrashes in my chest, and desperation spreads through me like lightning.
I could run, and maybe I could make it far enough to scream so the others can hear me. If what Cole said is true… if they really are celibate, then this shouldn’t be happening. This man shouldn’t be allowed to touch me.
My eyes land on the cracked door, and the decision is settled.
“Two.”
I get up, a wave of dizziness washing over me.
I walk toward him, the chains around my ankles dragging across the concrete.
“Come on, pretty girl.”
Breath shallow and knees buckling, I inch toward him, keeping my face down so my eyes can watch the doorstep. And then… I bolt toward it.
The chain keeps my legs from spreading wide, so I make tiny rapid steps until my palms push against the metal frame, and I bask in the golden light waiting on the other side. I open my mouth to scream, gasping violently when my hair is pulled back. Pain ripples through me, and a hand comes over my lips, keeping them shut.
“Come here, little bitch,” he sings in my ear. My eyes throb with tears I can’t control.
I mumble into his hand as he pulls me back, back into the darkness, sitting me down on his damned knee.
Then he gropes me, tugging at my jeans and fumbling for the button. “Let’s take these off. Get you more comfortable. Let me see what the commander loves so much about this cunt of yours.”
I cry out for help, pushing into his chest to set myself free, but the arm he wraps around me combined with the numbing drug in my system are enough to keep me in place.
“Yes, yes, scream for me. That’s how I like you best.”
My jeans split when he releases the button, and his fingers dip down below my belly button. The stench emanating from his breath is everywhere. I can’t breathe .
I tense up, feeling his foreign skin on mine, waiting in utter horror for what I know I’m about to experience. I pull myself away from this world, sinking deeper into myself where everything else he says becomes a sound too far away to register.
Fear like I’ve never known it courses through my veins, immobilizing me. Paralyzing me like a deer in the middle of the road, blinded by a passing car’s headlights.
And then—
“What the fuck are you doing?” a voice booms into the room from behind us.
The man tenses against me, groaning in annoyance.
“I’ll be done in a few.”
“No, you won’t. Get the fuck out. Salister is here.”
“For fuck’s sake, Magnus, I said —”
Magnus approaches us, his boots hitting the concrete with every step. Then his arm sprawls forward with a sharp knife in his hand. My vision stutters as I watch them with my breath held tight in my chest, my eyes clenched with fear.
“There are times when we’re partners, Ren, and times when I’m your boss. Right now it’s the latter. You get me into any trouble with Salister, and I’ll spray your blood all over these fucking walls. Got it?”
Ren smirks next to my face, his hand tapping my skin a few times too many before exiting the front of my jeans. Vomit rises to my throat and I swallow it back down, relief washing over me when I’m set free from his grip. I stand up as quickly as I can, moving back toward the corner of the room.
“You got it, boss,” he drawls, then stands up and looks at me, his face telling me this is far from over.
The cell falls silent. I wrap my arms around myself and look down, seeing more light spread out on the concrete when Ren opens the door to leave.
The other man—Magnus—is still here, and I don’t know that I should feel any better.
“P-Please,” I say, my voice dying out. “Let me go. I don’t know anything—”
He steps closer, knife in hand, but there’s nowhere else for me to back up. His body traps me, heat emanating from him and seeping into my cold clothes. Something touches my hand, and I realize it’s the handle of his knife turned toward me.
“Have you ever killed a man, Dove?”
The question takes me aback.
I open my mouth to answer, but pushing out words is suddenly too much of an effort.
“If you want to stay alive, you’re going to have to. Don’t let anyone see you with this,” he says, pushing the handle into my hand. I wrap my fingers around it, my heart beating too fast for my own good.
Who is this man? Why is he helping me?
I cling to his words, nodding at everything he says, even though I have no idea how I’m going to do what he’s suggesting. Because it’s insane. Every word coming out of his mouth sounds insane .
“Go for the jugular if you can,” he tells me. I flinch when his finger taps the side of my neck. “Under the collarbone.” He lowers it down to show me where. “The lungs. Or the kidneys. Any of these should give you an upper hand. Do you understand me?”
I nod, swallowing into my aching throat. He backs away, wanting to leave. But he can’t leave. Whoever this man is he’s showing me I can trust him, and that he might be my only hope to survive in here.
“Who… who are you?” I whisper, clearing my ragged throat. “Why are you helping me?”
He doesn’t answer and doesn’t show any sign of wanting to talk to me.
“Don’t go. Please… why are you helping me?”
Just then he turns toward me, and I see a flash of his cold eyes as he speaks.
“I’m not. I’m doing Cole a favor, and nothing more.”
Then he’s gone, and the door locks behind him. I’m left alone in the dark, more questions surging in my head than before I got here. What did that Ren guy mean about watching the news? I curl up in a ball against the wall, and the only conclusion my mind comes to is that Rowan is either badly hurt… or he’s truly gone.