Chapter 9 #2
No. I shake my head harder this time. I never told Arash or his allies anything confidential. Never. Not in the beginning, when they tried to torture it out of me, or later, when they tried to bribe me.
I would never, ever break my vow to my country. I would have given my life instead. And in those three months I was held hostage, I was more than prepared to do it.
But clearly, Davis sees things differently.
Davis sees me as the villain of the story. As the femme fatale, using my body and my wiles to manipulate my captors into giving me what I wanted. As a heartless traitor who cared only about herself.
“I know you could have helped us,” he says. The edge of the blade trails down to my neck, coming to a stop just above my jugular.
My pulse leaps so hard and fast, I’m afraid I might cut myself just from the motion.
“You could have gotten us out,” Davis continues. “Or at least convinced your dirtbag boyfriend to give us the same treatment as you. Kept us in the same place, with drinkable water and food. But, no. You didn’t care about us. All you cared about was yourself.”
I can’t shake my head to refute it. Not now. Not with the blade so close to slicing my vein.
Davis’s lip bares back in a rictus of a smile. “You turned your back on us. On your teammate.” He stops. “He defended you, you know. When I told him you were nothing more than a traitor, he denied it. Even after you were rescued. But I knew. You could have helped. But you didn’t.”
The knife draws back.
My lungs seize.
Is this it?
Is this the moment my life comes to an end? Not in the Middle East, but in my own basement?
On the heels of that thought comes another, heavy with sorrow.
I’ll never see Ace again.
We won’t get to watch the new season of BattleBots together.
I’ll never get to kiss him again.
I’ll never know if this seeing where things go could turn into something deeper.
Something that lasts for months, years, maybe even a lifetime.
It hurts so badly, this loss of something I only just began to let myself dream of.
And Ace. I heard the faint knocking at the door upstairs. And then nothing. Did he turn around and leave, thinking I’d changed my mind about him? That I was too cowardly to tell him my real feelings, so instead, I ghosted him?
Or.
A flicker of hope sparks.
Does he know something’s wrong?
Ace isn’t just a regular guy, after all. He was a Green Beret, and later, Delta. Now he works for one of the most respected security companies in the country. Of anyone, wouldn’t he notice if something was off?
And he knows me. He knows I wouldn’t just blow him off like that.
I hope.
Oh, I hope.
I don’t care about doing it myself this time. I don’t need to prove anything. Not here. Not now. All that matters is getting out of here.
“Do you know what they did to me?” Davis asks. His voice pitches up again. “Do you? They weren’t concerned about the Geneva Conventions. Nope. Not where I was being held. Maybe you got to walk away scot-free, but I didn’t.”
He removes the knife from my neck and replaces it in the sheath at his waist. Then he pulls up his sleeve, displaying his right forearm, covered from wrist to elbow in burn scars.
“They did this to me, Yara. Did they do anything like that to you? Hmm?” His hand dives into his pocket and comes out with a lighter.
“Maybe we should see how you like it? What do you think of that?”
My chest constricts until I can barely take in a breath. Though I don’t want to show any fear, it’s hard when that lighter is right there, inches away—
Davis flicks the lighter, and a tiny flame emerges.
“What do you think of this, Yara?” His face contorts into a crazed smile.
“So many ways to torture you. That’s why I waited, you know.
I was there, in the parking lot. Watching you scurry to your car like a frightened little mouse.
I could have killed you right then and there.
But that would have been too quick. Too merciful. ”
The flame dances dangerously close to my arm.
“This way,” he continues, “I can take my time. Since you live alone, no one will even realize there’s a problem until you don’t show up for work on Monday.
Although…” He waves the flame across my skin, singing it.
“I could send a text, telling them you’re sick.
So your body could be here for close to a week before anyone realizes. ”
Terror takes over. In my mind, so real I can feel the heat of the flames, I see myself on fire, unable to scream, unable—
“Get away from her!” A voice filled with rage echoes throughout the basement. “Now.”
Davis’s face jerks with shock.
The lighter clatters to the floor.
Relief sweeps through me so quickly I’m lightheaded with it.
Ace.
He’s here.
From the laundry room side of the basement, Ace emerges. His expression is hard. Angry. Dangerous. He looks more giant than man as he advances on Davis, his gun trained on my captor’s chest. “Back. Away. From. Her.”
Ace’s gaze flickers to me. First, there’s horror. Then guilt. And finally, fury.
“Get away from her,” he repeats, sounding more deadly than I’ve ever heard him. “Before I shoot you.” He cocks the trigger. “Or maybe I will anyway.”
Davis stares at Ace, slack-jawed and uncomprehending. But a moment later, recognition dawns. “Jensen?” he asks. “What the fuck? Why are you here?”
I’m shocked myself, but not for long. Davis was Delta, and though I know he wasn’t on the same team as Ace, it stands to reason they might know each other.
Surprise moves across Ace’s face, but he quickly hides it. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he retorts. “And what the fuck are you doing?”