27. The Phoenix
The Phoenix
Chapter 27
I awoke with a start, my eyes blinking open to nothing but inky blackness. The lumpy mattress pressed into my back as a dull throb pulsed through my body. After finding the tracking device on my watch, I pressed the activation button, hoping the signal would find its way to Tristan. At some point after that, my body had given up, and I had passed out. I was not sure how long I’d been sleeping, but it was nighttime outside. It could have been a day or three later… I was not sure.
Willing the nausea twisting in my gut to subside, I took a steadying breath, blowing out slowly. I could not afford to lose the little food I’d been given, especially after vomiting when I’d overheard them discussing selling me on the black market. Just thinking about it made acid rise in my throat, but I pushed it down. Weakness was a luxury I could not afford if I wanted to survive this, and at least for the moment, I wanted to survive.
For Evie, I told myself. I had to stay strong for my daughter. She was out there somewhere, waiting for me to come home. After already losing her daddy, I could not take her mommy too.
Gritting my teeth against the pain, I shifted onto my side, fear making it hard to breathe. The thin mattress did little to cushion my body as I shifted, trying to sit up. The movement sent pain radiating through my ribs and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. As gently as I could, I reached down to feel along my side. Definitely bruised, if not fractured. I took as deep of a breath as I could manage, but it felt as if there was a knife in my side. Definitely fractured.
Fear threatened to overwhelm me, but I pushed it down. I knew I had to keep a level head if I was going to get out of my predicament, but the walls closed in around me as I sat in the dark, my mind racing as it tried to formulate a plan, but nothing came. I was too weak. Too tired. Too beaten down.
A tear slid down my cheek as Evie’s face floated before my eyes and I swiped it roughly, as angry at my emotions as I was at the world. It had proven to be a cruel place, but I was not ready to give up the fight. The glass shard I had clutched in my hand before finding the tracking device confirmed it. My hesitation seemed almost foolish when the footsteps came, but the glass shard…
Heart hammering against my tender ribs, I slid off the mattress and slipped my hand beneath it where I had hidden the makeshift blade, blowing out a breath when my fingers touched its jagged edge. I knew it would not save me in a fight against multiple armed men, but something inside me felt safer knowing it was there.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway outside, my breath catching in my throat as they drew nearer. I steeled myself, begging my nerves to settle, because the more fear I showed, the more it seemed to egg them on.
The lock on the door clicked loudly in the silence, the hinges creaking as the heavy door swung inward. Harsh light flooded the small room, blinding me momentarily. Squinting against the glare, numbness flooded through my limbs when I recognized the familiar silhouette in the doorway, flanked by his two henchmen.
With a confident stride, the long-haired man stepped through the threshold, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down black shirt. His presence was overwhelming in the confined space, and for a moment, I regretted the hesitation that had convinced me to slide the glass beneath the mattress rather than across my wrist. Whether I spoke to him or did not, it always seemed to cause the same outcome, and I didn’t know what to do anymore. Aside from hoping Ethan and Tristan would find me, there did not seem to be any other way out.
“Ready to talk now? Or do you need more convincing?”
Scooting back until my back hit the wall, I said nothing, clenching my jaw. He closed the distance between us in an instant, grabbing my chin and jerking my face up to his. The stale smoke on his breath nearly made me gag. “Whether you tell us where to find Ivy Etienne or not, we will eventually find your father. The only difference is whether you want to live longer than him.”
His words hung heavy in the air, a challenge laid bare. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. There was no way I could tell him where Scarlett was, and I did not know where her father was. I was fighting a losing battle, no matter which way I looked at it. The weight of his demands was suffocating, and I already could barely breathe.
Wrenching my head from his grip, I glared at him defiantly. There was no warmth in his gaze, only the icy indifference of a man who had long ago surrendered any semblance of empathy. Under his intimidating shadow, I struggled to maintain my composure, to project an image of indifference despite the tremors that betrayed me. I wondered how close I could get to the glass shard beneath the mattress—how quickly I could slit his throat before one of his buddies put a bullet in me.
His eyes darkened at my refusal to speak, annoyance making his nostrils flare. In a flash, his hand shot out, grabbing me by the throat and slamming me against the wall. Struggling against his hold, I gasped for air, my ribs screaming.
“Let’s try this again,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Because I’m really trying to be patient. Where has the old man gone?”
I clawed at his hand, struggling to breathe. Black spots swam before my eyes, my head spinning. Just when I thought I might pass out, he released me and took a step back. I doubled over, coughing and wheezing. He did not go far. Instead, he crouched down, forcing me to meet his relentless gaze. “You have one last chance. Tell me where he is, or I’ll send my men back to find the daughter you’re trying to get back to.”
A jolt of fear pierced my heart at the mention of her, making me regret ever mentioning I had a child. An idea formed in my mind—a desperate gamble to stall—but my only play.
Slumping against the wall and sliding down onto the mattress, I let my eyes roll back, going limp as I feigned unconsciousness. A tense beat of silence followed, but the slide of shoes against the concrete told me he had stepped back.
“Fuck,” he spat. “Check her.”
Rough hands grabbed at me, probing for a pulse, but I kept my body limp. After a moment, the man touching me moved away. “She’s still breathing, but it’s shallow,” he said, a note of concern threading through the words. Not necessarily in concern for me, however. It was clear I was worth money to them—probably more alive than dead. “What if she doesn’t—”
“Then, we have a problem,” the long-haired man interrupted, the vitriol in his voice unmistakable.
Every fiber of my being screamed to fight, to rise and face them with the ferocity of a mother whose child was in danger, but my body betrayed me, refusing to heed the call to arms. Instead, I remained limp on the lumpy mattress that might as well have been my pyre.
Holding my breath, I prayed my ruse would work. The long-haired man cursed again, but he did not move closer.
Finally, he sighed and took a few more steps away from me. “Leave her. We’ll deal with her later. For now, let’s see how long she lasts.”
The door clicked shut with the finality of a tomb sealing closed, and then their footsteps receded, leaving me alone with the oppressive darkness that seemed to press down upon me with the weight of my fear.
Slowly, cautiously, I opened my eyes. The room around me swam into focus. I may have faked passing out, but I was not completely pretending. Each breath was a battle, the air thick and stale against my lips. I forced myself to inhale deeply, to find the steel that had seen me through the lonely nights and the endless hospital stays with Evie, but dread pooled in my stomach, a leaden weight that threatened to drag me under. At least for a little while, I let it take me.