Chapter 6
CAMILE
I regain consciousness to find myself curled in a corner and no longer tied to the chair, which I’m grateful for.
However, the floor is cold and hard against my aching bones, and I have nothing covering me, except for my freezing wet cami and sleep shorts.
I’m on my side in the recovery position, and as my last memory was of fading into blackness as the exhaustion from the torture took its toll, I wonder if they did this to try to save my life.
The fact that they didn’t call a doctor or seem to care beyond putting me in a position to let any water out of my lungs is hardly reassuring. They left me alone in this dingy room, to come around under my own steam.
Had I been wrong to believe that Ledger wanted me alive enough to ensure my safety?
Shivering and shaking so badly that I can barely use my arms to push myself up, I struggle until I’m sitting.
I wrap my arms around my knees, which I draw to my chest and hug tight, trying to warm up.
Waves of sickness wash over me, so sharp and intense that I know any moment now I’m going to throw up everywhere.
A soft, pathetic moan escapes me at the idea of having to stay in this space, with my own vomit on the floor, stinking and making me feel even worse.
Another intense wave of sickness washes over me, and I just manage to lurch forward onto my hands and knees and crawl a little before I throw up.
I haven’t eaten in some time, or had anything to drink, but somehow my stomach still finds something to eject.
Eventually, there’s nothing but bile left, and my stomach is so sore tears stream down my face.
By the time I sit back, my throat is raw.
No matter how terrible I feel, though, I have to try the door. The chances of them leaving me here, untied and with the door unlocked, is minimal, but still, I must try.
They clearly didn’t think I was much of an escape risk.
As well as the bonds being gone, they also didn’t gag me again.
Is it possible that they left me here for dead?
It’s a crazy thing to wish for, but I do.
If they thought I was dead, or about to die, perhaps they wouldn’t have bothered to lock the door either.
Still on my hands and knees, I crawl toward the slat of light peeping beneath the door. The floor seems to tilt beneath me and my head is spinning. I have to stop and breathe deep, fighting against the possibility of blacking out again, and the moment passes.
It feels like it takes forever, but finally, I’m in front of the door.
I sit back on my haunches and reach for the handle.
With what little strength I have, I yank on it, first pulling it toward me, and then putting all my body weight into pushing it away.
Nothing happens. I might not have heard them lock it before, but they have now.
A sob barrels up inside me, and I bite it back down. Crying isn’t going to help me now, and I need to conserve my energy.
My throat still burns, and there’s a terrible taste coating my tongue. Despite almost drowning, I’m dehydrated, and I need water.
In the dark shadows of the room, I can just make out the shape of the tub they used to half drown me, the hose, and beside it, a few rags.
Once more, on shaky arms and legs, I crawl toward the tub.
There’s still water in it, so I scoop handfuls into my mouth and do my best to fight the sensation of drowning.
Intrusive thoughts of plunging my face back beneath the water enter my head, and I battle the panic threatening to overwhelm me.
I manage a couple more gulps before falling back, shaking all over.
When the worst of the panic fades, I pick up one of the rags sitting beside the tub. I give it a sniff. It doesn’t stink of anything too horrific, so, even though I doubt it’s clean, I use it to wipe my face.
It’s amazing how, when you’re stripped down to your most vulnerable self, the idea of normal life seems like the greatest luxury imaginable.
What I wouldn’t give for a toothbrush and toothpaste right now.
I can almost taste the minty freshness. I moan softly to myself as I imagine cleaning my teeth then sinking my aching, freezing body into a warm bath.
Despair fills me, and, unable to hold myself up, I fall sideways again and curl into a ball.
I let my mind drift to the thought of a beautiful warm bath.
The water would surround me like a cocoon, keeping me safe.
In my fantasy, it is nighttime, and I have the lights in the bathroom off and candles flickering all around the tub.
Maybe it would be at the compound, and Jack would have run the bath for me, and he’d be in the next room, waiting.
I miss all the men I’ve become close to at the Riders’ compound.
I miss Rook for his friendship, his care, and his light, easy way.
I miss Ace for his craziness, his gorgeous smile, and his big ,soft heart that he tries to hide.
I even miss Ghost, because despite his strange, unnerving stare, I always felt that somehow, he had my back.
But most of all, most of all, I miss Jack.
For some reason, my brain has decided that man is my safe place.
It doesn’t make sense, as he’s not given me any real reason to feel that way.
In fact, he has rejected me many times. Somehow, though, when I’m near him, despite my nerves, I feel as if he’s a strong barrier between me and the world.
Jack’s the kind of man no one wants to go through, and I wish I had his strength now, here in this place, protecting me.
A faint rumble reaches the room, coming from outside, and I struggle to sit so I can hear better.
It sounds like an engine, and when it cuts off, the banging of car doors resonates.
Loud voices I don’t recognize fill the air.
They are followed by laughter and shouts, masculine and threatening.
Heavy footsteps head toward where I’m being kept.
Oh God, what does this mean? If new people are here, it can’t be good.
Are they going to move me? If they’re coming to take me to a second place, does it indicate they’ve decided I’m no use?
Surely, Ledger won’t let them hurt me anymore than they already have?
He’s already almost killed his bride-to-be, for God’s sake.
Then another thought hits. No less horrifying. Maybe it’s some of Ledger’s men coming to take us to Mexico. I bet his family has a private jet, so he could drug me and force me onto it. My father used to smuggle all sorts of things, and people, into the country, if the rumors are true.
Maybe this is all happening to me because of the sins my father committed.
I never asked to be born into the life I was, but it would be a lie to say that it didn’t give me luxuries most people can never dream of.
I hardly fought against my upbringing, did I?
I could have run; that would have been an option.
Perhaps a braver, more confident woman would have done that the minute she was left at Verona Falls University.
How easy would it have been for me to say I was heading to town, making sure I had my passport and the few bits that I needed, then just disappear?
I know deep down, it’s just a fantasy, because unless I had enough money to change my name and get new biometric identification, my father would have eventually found me.
Still, it doesn’t mean the sins of the father aren’t now being passed on to the daughter to account for.
If karma is real, and he’s dead, maybe I’ve inherited his retribution docket.
Which most likely means a life of utter hell for me going forward.
I determine that if I get out of this alive, and free, I will try to erase some of the bad my father did.
The footsteps stop by the door, and I shudder. Please God, don’t let there be any more of this hell with the water. I can’t take another moment of that. I know if they do it to me again, I’m liable to crack completely and go insane.
Whatever happens, I can’t give Mom’s location away.
If they find her, those men will kill her and my brother.
But, before they end my mom’s life, they will do absolutely depraved things to her.
It won’t be a peaceful death, and that realization solidifies my determination that no matter how bad this gets for me, no matter how terrifying or painful, I cannot give them that location.
I can scream and beg and cry and throw myself at Ledger’s mercy.
I can tell him over and over again that I don’t know the safehouse location.
The one thing I cannot do, no matter what, is tell them where my mother is.
The heavy metallic clang of a lock moving wrenches through the room.
The door cracks open, allowing a shard of bright light to stab directly into my face.
Automatically, I slam my hands over my eyes to protect them.
There’s laughter and scuffed feet, then a horrible thud as someone falls to the floor near me, an oomph of breath leaving them.
Pulling my hands away from my eyes and blinking rapidly to adjust to the light, I stare in shock at the figure on the floor.
No, this can’t be happening. I must still be asleep and dreaming. Or I’ve gone completely insane.
Rook?
I try to take in the men who’ve brought him here.
Ledger is back, of course, and the two original goons, but accompanying them are two other men I don’t recognize.
They also don’t look like cartel members.
Surely Ledger would have informed his family by now that he has me?
Wouldn’t they have sent people to help him, or told him to bring me to them?
Unless, of course, he hasn’t told them yet because he wants to have a bit of fun.
Who are these people?
Ledger sneers at me. “Seeing as you weren’t being cooperative, wifey-to-be, I thought this might be an incentive. I understand this is one of your friends from the compound.”
I look at Rook, still unbelieving that he’s even here, and then up to Ledger, and I know I must lie like I’ve never lied before.
“I’ve barely spoken three words to this guy, so I don’t know what you mean.” I hold Ledger’s gaze and don’t even blink.
“You’re not a very good liar, Camile, despite what you might think. And anyway, I know that’s not true because why else would this idiot have risked everything to try to save you?”
Rook groans, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He risked everything to try to save me? What does that even mean? Why is he alone? Does it mean the others don’t care and are just going to leave me here? If he’s alone, then Jack, Ace, and Ghost have clearly washed their hands of me.
Rook groans again, and although I’m so grateful to him for his loyalty, I wish he hadn’t put himself in this position. Now he’s probably going to be killed because of me, and the thought fractures my heart into a million pieces.
“We’ll be back later,” Ledger says. “And when we return, the fun will really begin. You wouldn’t talk to us when we were using your own fear and pain against you.
Let’s see how long it will take to make you talk when the man who’s risked everything to save you is being fucked up.
Will you still refuse to tell me where your family is then, Camile?
Will you live the rest of your life with this man’s death upon your soul?
Because don’t you think for one moment that I won’t go that far.
I will. Oh, I’ll drag it out, of course, make sure I really enjoy taking my time with his piece of shit.
But I will end him, unless you give me what I need. ”
He jerks his chin at the men he’s brought with him, and together, they all turn and leave.
The door slams shut and the lock slips back into place.
Rook groans again, but his eyelids flicker, and I can see his eyeballs moving from left to right rapidly under his closed lids. I think he’s starting to come around.
“Rook?” I give him a gentle shake. “Wake up. You need to wake up right now.”
His eyes suddenly snap open, and I almost sob in relief. “Rook? Rook, are you okay? ?Ay, Dios mío! What are you doing here?”
He blinks at me, his gaze glassy and unfocused. He swallows three times before he speaks in a rusty, scratched tone. “Camile? Are you real?”
“Yes, it’s me, Rook. I’m real. Why are you here? How did you find me?”
If we can figure this out together, we might have a better idea of where we’re being held.
“I thought my friend would help me, but he’s betrayed me. I can’t believe he’s done that.”
He shakes his head, just staring at the floor. His shoulders are slumped forward as he curls in on himself. I recognize defeat when I see it. That won’t do. He is going to need to fight their torture with every bit of strength he can find deep inside.
“Rook. They’ve threatened to hurt you, but you can’t give in to it. We can’t give in. There must be a way we can get out of here.” I lean forward and gently touch his right cheek where there’s a big bruise forming over the skin. “Did they do this to you?”
He nods forlornly, and I blink back tears.
“What about the others? I can’t believe they just decided to leave me to my fate.” My voice is so bitter and so damn sad.
“They haven’t,” he croaks. “They’re going to come, but they wanted to make a proper plan. I didn’t agree with waiting because I knew that terrible things could happen to you in the meantime. So, I tried to come and find you myself… look how that turned out.”
He gives a chuckle that fades into a series of hacking coughs, then he groans again, curls up, and closes his eyes.
Oh, Rook…
My heart catches, and my vision mists with tears. I gently stroke his dark blond hair out of his face and brush the backs of my knuckle against his cheek. He leans into my hand, his eyes still shut, like he’s seeking the warmth of my touch.
Who knows how serious his injuries are? He has a bruise on his cheek and what looks to be a nasty bump forming on his forehead, plus blood in his hair. I pray he doesn’t have bleeding on the brain or anything too serious.
I curl down onto the floor beside him, wrapping my body around his, forming a protective shield.
Please, God, don’t let them kill him.