40. Chapter 40
The foul smell of unwashed bodies and blood assaulted Yareli’s nostrils, and she gagged.
She sat up. The cold, damp ground under her palms was familiar to her.
She whipped her head from side to side, surveying the dark cell before she rushed toward the door.
She tugged at it over and over; it rattled but didn’t budge.
She shoved her shoulder into the metal bars until it bruised, but the door remained unmoved, like a dutiful soldier.
Breathing hard, she stepped away and shook her head.
“I’m free. I’m free,” she muttered. In a louder voice, she said, “This can’t be real.”
She patted herself, seeing the lieutenant’s uniform. The past few months had not been some illusion she deluded herself into believing, but why was she back here? A pair of footsteps echoed down the hall, and she stiffened. She knew that gait.
She rushed at the door, throwing her body at it. Her resolve wavered as the door remained in place.
Escape is impossible, a terrible inner voice told her. No matter where you go, I’ll find you.
As the steps grew closer, strength seeped from her bruised body, leaving behind the old husk that had existed in those four walls. She collapsed on the floor and crawled toward the far wall.
Small. I must make myself small.
The footsteps stopped in front of her cell. The telltale sound of jangling keys stopped her heart. No, no, no.
The door creaked open, and pain exploded in her ankle as his boot stomped on it.
“Welcome back, vermin.”
She screamed.
Yareli woke up still screaming, holding her chest as pain erupted across it. She hunched over, holding herself close, and cried as she rode out the pain. It had been a few days since she last thought of that pig and her torture, but the small reprieve had been paid for tenfold.
“It was only a nightmare,” she whispered to herself, imagining her mom rushing into her room to soothe her. “Una pesadilla, mi amor.”
It wasn’t real. It was some fucked up coping mechanism her brain had come up with, or maybe it meant she wasn’t coping, and it was her trauma resurfacing again.
She cried harder, muffling her sounds with her knees.
Terror pressed down on her, holding her hostage as that cell had.
She hated it—hated how powerless she had been, still was.
She wanted to rise from the dark pit life had cast her into, reborn powerful enough that no one would harm her again.
A warm touch, like a small flame fighting the darkness that surrounded her, quieted her sobs.
She lifted her gaze from her feet and, through her tears, saw Augrys standing over her with his hand on her arm.
Despite their argument, he had come. Relief shuddered through her.
She reached out to touch his hand, hesitating right before she made contact. If he wasn’t really there…
His eyebrows furrowed, his frown deepening. He took her hand and placed it over his beating heart. “It’s me.”
More tears rushed down her face at the contact, and she said, “Please stay with me.”
“I won’t go anywhere.”
She searched his face for a lie. When she found none, she relaxed, matching his breathing and feeling the tension leave her shoulders. She had finally dozed off when Augrys shifted on his feet, waking her up.
“Would you stay the night?” she asked, the plea in her tone clear.
There was a pregnant pause, but he agreed, pulling a chair behind him. He sat, and she dropped his hand, settling into bed. Despite their current rocky interactions, Augrys was still the foundation of her security in Izmari. As long as he was nearby, she would return home.
“Rest. I’ll wake you before I leave at dawn,” he said.
“It’s a promise?”
“Of course.”
And perhaps because things were easier admitted under the dark’s coverage, Yareli said, “I’m sorry about earlier. I wish we got along better.”
She fell asleep before she heard his response.
A few hours later, Augrys shook her gently. “I have to go now, sleep some more. I’ll have Erick check up on you later.”
Yareli could barely open her eyes, but she nodded. “Okay.”
She fell back asleep in an instant, but she thought there was a soft touch on her forehead.