Chapter 5 Ryan #2
Tessa reached out tentatively and took Ryan's hand. It was warm, his pulse steady beneath her fingers. She squeezed gently, willing him to wake up, to open his eyes and tell her he was okay.
The door bolt slid again, and both women's heads snapped toward the sound. The giant stepped inside, and Tessa tensed, ready to position herself between him and Ryan if necessary.
But the giant just placed a bottle of water and a small pill bottle on the shelf built into the wall, just like he'd done for Tessa when she'd first woken up with a pounding headache from the chloroform.
As he turned to leave, Tessa was completely surprised when he paused and asked, "Is he okay?"
The question was so unexpected, so at odds with everything about their situation, that for a moment Tessa could only stare. Then anger spurted through her like a geyser, hot and sudden and overwhelming.
Before she could stop herself, and before the logical part of her brain could warn her that antagonizing their captor was probably a terrible idea, Tessa was on her feet and advancing toward him.
"What do you care?" she demanded, her voice shaking with fury. "Were you the one who did this to him? How much did you give him? Jackie says it was enough to kill most people! You could have killed him!" Her voice rose as she spat the accusations at him.
The giant stood there and let her rant, his massive frame completely still.
When she finally ran out of steam, he glanced toward somewhere outside the door, as if checking to make sure no one was listening, Tessa realized.
Then he spoke quietly. "We all have our penance to pay," he said, that gravelly voice even softer than usual.
"Even if we don't like what we have to do.
Especially when it involves someone you love. "
Tessa was so shocked by the words, by the genuine sadness and regret she heard beneath the distortion of his voice, that she could only gape at him.
The giant left without another word, the door closing behind him and the bolt sliding home.
Tessa stood there staring at the closed door, her mind trying to process what had just happened. Someone you love. What did that mean? Did he mean someone he loved? Someone she loved? Did he mean whoever had ordered this? Or someone else entirely?
"Tessa!" Jackie's voice pulled her from her shocked stupor. The doctor was standing now, moving toward the shelf where the giant had left the supplies. "Are those more headache pills?"
Tessa blinked, shook her head to clear it, and went to pick up the bottle.
She turned it over in her hands, reading the label.
"Yes," she said, a slow smile spreading across her face despite everything.
"And this time we have a whole lot more.
" She rattled the bottle, seeing at least six or seven pills inside.
"This outrageous idea of yours might just work after all," Jackie said, though her expression was troubled.
"Let's just hope we're not in the middle of nowhere.
And that whatever is up there—" she pointed toward the ceiling, toward the building above their basement prison "—isn't filled with more hostiles. "
"That's a chance we'll have to take," Tessa said firmly. Her eyes fell on Ryan's still form. "Can we wake him?"
"Bring the water," Jackie instructed.
Tessa watched anxiously as Jackie carefully lifted Ryan's head and held the water bottle to his lips, dribbling small amounts of liquid into his mouth.
At first, Ryan didn't respond at all, his throat not even moving to swallow.
But Jackie was patient, persistent, and eventually Ryan's reflexes kicked in.
He coughed, sputtered, and his eyelids fluttered.
"That's it," Jackie encouraged softly. "Come on, Ryan. Time to wake up."
It took another few minutes, but slowly, agonizingly slowly, Ryan began to come around. His eyes opened to slits, unfocused and confused. He tried to move, groaned at the effort, and his hand came up weakly to push away the water bottle.
"Easy," Jackie said. "You're safe. Well, relatively speaking. You're with Tessa and me."
Ryan's eyes found Tessa's face, and she saw the moment recognition dawned. His expression shifted—relief, then confusion, then something that looked almost like pain.
Before she could think better of it, Tessa threw her arms around him, hugging him so tightly she was probably making it hard for him to breathe.
She felt him wince and suck in his breath.
"I thought you were dead," she whispered against his shoulder, her voice breaking.
"When I saw him carrying you in, I thought. .."
For just a second, Ryan's arms came up around her, holding her back just as tightly. She felt the solid warmth of him, felt his chest rise and fall with his breathing, and relief flooded through her so intensely it made her dizzy.
Then Ryan stiffened. Not abruptly, but definitely. His arms loosened, and he pulled back from her with a kind of careful, deliberate distance that hurt worse than if he'd shoved her away.
"How long have I been out?" he asked, his voice rough and scratchy.
His eyes moved past Tessa to scan the room, taking in the concrete walls, the cots, the single door with its heavy bolt.
Then he moved away from her, physically shifting his body to put space between them on the narrow cot.
It wasn't dramatic. He didn't shove her away or recoil.
But the withdrawal was unmistakable. Deliberate. Final.
His training was kicking in, Tessa realized with a sinking heart.
She'd seen her brother do the exact same thing during tough situations when he'd been in the service, shut down every emotion, compartmentalize the personal, become nothing but mission and tactics.
Ryan was assessing their situation like the soldier he was, cataloging threats and calculating odds with that cool, analytical part of his brain that could function even when drugged half to death.
And she was just another variable in the equation now. Not someone he'd confessed his feelings to in a park. Not someone whose rejection had hurt him badly enough to make him walk away angry. Just another hostage to protect and extract.
Pain ripped through Tessa's stomach, sharp and visceral, like something vital had been torn away.
She swallowed hard against the tears burning behind her eyes, refusing to let them fall.
She had no right to cry. She'd done this.
She'd pushed him away. She'd told him, no, she'd made it devastatingly clear that she didn't trust him.
That she thought he was just like Mark. That she believed he'd hurt Maggie the way her father had.
And Ryan had heard her. Loud and clear.
His rejection now was subtle but unmistakably cool. Professional. A communication between them that said everything without words: You made your choice in that park. Now I'm making mine.
"We're not sure," Jackie was saying in response to Ryan's question about how long he'd been unconscious. "You were out when they brought you in about twenty minutes ago. Based on when Tessa was taken and when I was taken, I'd estimate you've been missing for..." She glanced at Tessa.
But Tessa couldn't speak. Couldn't push words past the ache in her throat. She just stared at Ryan's profile as he looked at Jackie, his expression carefully neutral, giving absolutely nothing away.
He wouldn't even look at her now.
And somehow, trapped in a basement prison with a giant captor upstairs and no clear way out, that hurt more than anything else that had happened in the last two days.