Chapter 14
Charlie
I jerked awake, blinking into the dim light. Where am I?
An arm tightened around my chest, and my heart slammed against my ribs as memory crashed back. The cave. The flood. The skeleton. Doug and his gun.
And Mitch. Oh shit. I'm still between his legs.
Heat flooded my face. I should move.
Light filtered through hairline cracks in the cave ceiling.
Tiny threads of dawn, barely enough to see by.
Each time I’d woken during the night, I'd listened to water dripping through those fissures above.
The storm must have passed now, though, allowing weak pre-dawn light to seep through those cracks instead.
I started to shift, but Mitch's arm locked around me, holding me still. His body had gone rigid, every muscle tensed.
I glanced across the cave, and my stomach dropped. Doug was just visible, seated against the far wall, the rifle aimed right at me. His eyes were open, watching.
How long had he been awake?
"Keep calm," Mitch murmured against my ear. "Just breathe. We'll figure out the next steps."
"Next steps?" Doug's voice growled. "Like you letting me walk out of here with those jewels?"
"We can sort this out," Mitch said, still so calm.
"There's nothing to sort out." The rifle scraped against stone as Doug adjusted his grip, letting us know we were still his hostages. "These jewels are mine. I found them."
Anger flared through my chest. "We all found them, Doug."
"Yeah, but I'm the one with the gun." The light was barely enough to make out Doug's outline in the gloom, but I heard the snarl in his tone.
"Yes, you are." Mitch's jaw clenched against the top of my head.
My legs had gone numb beneath me, pins and needles shooting through my calves.
I should move. Get up. Do something. But I couldn't. Not with that rifle pointed at us.
Not with Doug's finger on the trigger. So, I stayed between Mitch's legs, hating how helpless I felt, hating that the only thing keeping me from falling apart was the steady rise and fall of Mitch's chest against my back.
Or maybe I just didn't know what to do or say anymore. The Doug I thought I’d known was gone. I didn't recognize him.
Time felt elastic and strange.
Doug laughed, a broken, bitter sound that echoed off the stone. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"
"I think you're scared," Mitch said.
"Damn right, I'm scared." His voice cracked. "You have no idea what those bastards will do if I don't pay them back … what they'll do to my daughter."
"So, tell us," I said, hoping he'd say something that explained his bullshit.
"Why? So, you can judge me? Tell me I should've been smarter, and made better choices?"
"No. So, we can help you and your daughter," Mitch said.
His calmness was incredible, as though he'd talked someone down from the edge before. Was that a cowboy skill, or was Mitch more than what he seemed? Either way, I was glad he was on my side.
Doug released a hollow laugh that made my skin crawl.
He clutched the velvet pouch to his chest, and for a second, his expression crumbled, not from anger but pure desperation.
"You don't understand. These assholes will hurt my daughter.
She's only ten years old, and they … " His voice cracked.
"You can't help me. Nobody can. The only thing that helps is money.
Two hundred grand. That's what they want.
And this …" he shook the pouch, "… this could be enough.” The gems jingled as he rolled the pouch in his hand.
"Those jewels are stolen," Mitch said. "You can't sell them."
"Oh, so you do know about them?" Suspicion sharpened his voice.
"No, I don't have a clue," Mitch said. "But that skeleton didn't whack himself in the head. Someone killed him, yet they left the jewels behind. I'd say they were scared of who they belonged to."
"I don't care who they belonged to." Doug's voice hardened. "All I care about is keeping my daughter safe."
"And what about Charlie? What about keeping her safe?"
My breath caught. Mitch's arm tightened around me.
The question hung in the air.
"Fuck you," Doug bit out.
"Yeah." Mitch exhaled slowly. "Fuck me."
The soft light filtering through the tunnel gradually grew brighter, painting the cave walls in shades of charcoal and ash.
Doug's face emerged from the shadows. He looked haggard and desperate. No resemblance to the academic professor I thought I’d known.
"Doug, this isn't you. You're not this person. "
"You don't know who I am," he shifted against the wall, "or what I've done to keep Roxanne safe this long."
"Then tell me," I said. "We've worked together for months. I thought we were—"
"What? Friends?" He laughed bitterly. "I needed to get away from Brisbane, and you can't get any further from the city than this shit hole."
The words hit like a physical blow. "You asshole." I lurched forward, Mitch's arms the only thing keeping me from launching myself at Doug. "You used me. You never cared about my research. You just needed somewhere to hide."
Doug's silence was answer enough.
"All those emails we sent back and forth," I continued, my voice shaking. "All those nights I stayed up planning this trip, thinking you actually gave a shit about my work—"
"I did give a shit," Doug snapped. "At first."
"At first." The words tasted bitter. "Because you realized you could use my research to disappear into the middle of nowhere."
Mitch's hand clamped around my wrist, squeezing hard. A silent message to calm down.
"I didn't want any of this," Doug said, his voice shaking. "But I need to protect Roxanne. Keep her safe. That's all I want."
My pulse hammered in my ears, but I forced myself to think. "We’ll figure this out. There has to be another way."
"I can help you," Mitch said quietly.
Doug laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You’re pitching that you'll help me? After I just told you I used Charlie? After I pointed a gun at both of you?" He shook his head. "I'm not an idiot, cowboy. I know bullshit when I hear it."
"I mean it," Mitch said. "I've got money. Not two hundred grand, but enough to buy you some time to get Roxanne somewhere safe while we figure it out."
Finally, sunshine filtered through the cave, and the shadows lifted enough to see Doug properly, and that scared me even more. Even his expression was unhinged.
Doug shifted against the wall, wincing as he tried to push himself upright. His left hand pressed against his ribs, the same spot he'd been favoring for days. Or maybe longer. How many signs had I missed?
"These guys don't do payment plans," Doug said through gritted teeth as he gradually stood. "It's all or nothing. If I show up with anything less, they'll make Roxanne pay for my mistakes." He aimed the rifle at us again. "When they're done with her, they'll finish what they started with me."
"Doug!" I raised my hands. "Put the gun down."
"Shut up and get up," Doug barked. The rifle dipped slightly before he jerked it back up. His hands trembled.
Maybe he didn't want to do this, but he was doing it anyway.
Mitch released me slowly, his hand sliding down my arm before he gave it a firm squeeze. "Easy," he murmured.
As I pushed myself up, pain shot through my right elbow. Shit! The bruise had swollen in size overnight. My palms were scraped raw, and my knees protested as I stood. Every aching muscle had gone stiff while I'd slept.
Mitch's hand steadied me under my good elbow as I struggled to stand. Then he jumped to his feet beside me, like he wasn't bruised and battered at all. Everything about his movements screamed of a man in control and ready for battle.
Doug's eyes were bloodshot, the whites shot through with red veins. Desperation flickered behind his eyes, making my skin crawl.
"Both of you, let's go." He gestured with the rifle. "Now."
"Okay, we’re cooperating," Mitch growled.
"You try anything, asshole, and Charlie pays for it. Understand?" Doug's voice was cold and flat.
My blood turned to ice.
"Understood," Mitch said, his voice full of controlled fury. "Just stay cool."
Mitch put his hands on my shoulders, guiding me in front of him, and guarding my back from Doug and the stupid gun.
"No." Doug glared at Mitch. "You first."
"Okay." Mitch raised his hands and led the way into the tunnel, back the way they came.
I followed Mitch, and Doug came behind, sandwiching me between the two men, making sure Mitch couldn't make a move. Doug's breathing sounded labored, pained. Or maybe his injuries were killing him. Good, I hope he’s in agony.
"Go." The rotten bastard jabbed the rifle into my back.
"I am." I shot him a glare over my shoulder, clenching my teeth so hard my jaw hurt.
He gave a sick smirk.
We were at the mercy of a man who'd lost his mind somewhere between finding those jewels and deciding our lives were worth less than his debts.
He jabbed the rifle barrel into the space between my shoulder blades.
One misstep or stumble, and the bastard could pull that trigger.
Sweet Jesus. He could kill me.
My stomach twisted so violently I thought I might throw up. Except there was nothing left to bring up. My stomach was a hollow, gnawing pit. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten. Yesterday morning? The day before? Time blurred together in a haze of fear and exhaustion.
"Keep going," Doug's voice cracked through the passage.
The tunnel narrowed, walls pressing in until my shoulders brushed stone on both sides, and Mitch had to walk sideways. Water still trickled somewhere ahead, and my damp socks rubbed against the heels of my boots.
The tunnel opened into the entrance cave, and dim dawn light painted everything in shades of grey and gold.
The water had cleared.
"Thank God. The flood's gone," I breathed.
"Don't celebrate yet," Mitch said. "We still have to climb out of the ravine."
My stomach sank. I'd forgotten about the cliff.
Doug prodded me with the rifle again. "Keep moving."