Chapter 37 Sandro
SANDRO
I stir first to the ache in my limbs, muscles screaming in protest, broken ribs tight and raw.
My vision is blurry, the shadows of the cell slinking across the stone walls.
I try to move, and my body protests in every way it can.
The manacles bite into my wrists, bruises flare, and my head throbs.
But thankfully, they must have decided I was weak enough they didn’t need to chain me to the wall again.
Then I feel her. Evi.
She’s sitting close, kneeling beside me on the floor, her hands resting lightly on my side, as if she’s afraid to touch me but is keeping vigil.
Even in the near nonexistent light, I can see the exhaustion etched into her features.
Her eyes, usually bright with warmth, are haunted, dull with fatigue and fear as she watches the door.
She hasn’t slept.
A wave of guilt gnaws at my chest at the realization. I was too far gone last night, lost in pain and rage, to take care of her.
“Evi,” I rasp, voice cracked, hoarse from dehydration and bruised lungs. I try to sit up, wincing as my muscles protest.
Her gaze shifts instantly, the smallest flicker of relief crossing her face, softening the haunted shadow in her features. “Sandro,” she breathes, voice trembling. “You’re awake.”
I reach out, careful, not wanting to aggravate the welts along my back or the ache in my ribs. “You okay?” I whisper.
She bites her lip, then tries to summon a smile, but it falters.
“I… I’m fine. Tired. But you… you scared me,” she admits, her voice breaking.
“There were a few times when your pulse got weak enough that I thought…” Her voice hitches, and I can see the tears welling in her eyes. “I thought it might stop.”
I take her icy hands in mine, I pull her into my arms, ignoring the pain that lances through me from the movement. “Hey, shh. It’s okay. It’ll take a lot more than that to kill me. I’ve survived worse,” I promise. It’s not a lie, but last time, I had a full medical staff to keep me alive afterward.
Still, the statement serves its intended purpose, drawing a tearful laugh from Evi. It’s fragile but real, a little of the light I know is still inside her, peeking through the fear. Relief softens her face in a way that makes my chest tighten, knowing she’s been terrified for me.
I press a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek, tasting the faint trace of tears on her skin.
Then, tucking her head beneath my chin, I hold her, careful not to put weight on my ribs or strain my arms. She huddles, warm and soft, against me, her hands brushing over the bruised flesh along my chest. Even gritty, bloody, and gross from being trapped and tortured, I feel an overwhelming need to reassure her, to show her that I’m still here.
We stay like that for I don’t know how long, allowing the silence to settle comfortingly around us.
Then the sound hits—hinges groaning, then footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, echoing from the stairs above.
I stiffen, pulse quickening, every instinct warning that danger is coming. Evi freezes, too, the color draining from her face. Then the bright fluorescent lights flicker back on, spearing my eyes and intensifying my already splitting headache.
“Look who’s finally awake,” Kenji sneers, his voice smooth, calculated, dripping with menace.
Evi flinches at the sound, her hands gripping mine tighter. I pull her as close as I can, my body instinctively shielding her, muscles coiled even though I’m still battered and weak.
“I hope you’re ready for what I have planned today, Sandro,” he teases, his mood far too chipper for my liking. Kenji looks like he’s had a full night’s sleep and a hot shower, and it grates against my frayed nerves. “Or maybe… you’re still too fragile?”
I grind my teeth, lifting my head, eyes burning with rage. “I’m ready for whatever you want to throw at me.”
Kenji’s laugh cuts through the silence, low and venomous, bouncing off the stone walls. “I do love your confidence. But we both know it’s time to raise the stakes.”
My chest tightens as I glance down to meet Evi’s wide, frightened eyes. “It’ll be alright. Just stay back,” I warn, voice low and rough. “And for the love of God, please—no matter what he does to me—stay quiet.”
She shakes her head, her chin quivering, and whispers, “I can’t let him touch you… I can’t…” Her words are cut short by the sound of the cell unlocking.
The bars swing open, and my body tenses, coiled, ready, despite every ache, every bruise. The moment stretches—the world narrowing to the two of us and the shadow of Kenji’s presence.
“Please, Evi. Promise me,” I plead, throwing any sense of pride or ego out the window as I openly beg her not to put herself in any unnecessary danger.
She presses her lips together as the tears start to fall, and she swipes impatiently at them. Then, in a broken whisper, says, “Okay.”
Cradling the back of her neck, I press my lips to her forehead, inhaling deeply despite my throbbing ribs so I can breathe her in.
Then my head jerks as I turn to find Kenji stepping into the cell, his eye lingering on Evi, slow, predatory. I rise, drawing his gaze back to me as I step between them and stand to my full height.
“Delightful,” he murmurs. “I’m impressed, Sandro. You survived the night. But now… we have a real opportunity. Shall we start?”
Evi doesn’t rise, she doesn’t make a sound, but her fingers find mine as she slips her hand into my palm. I tighten my grip around her, squeezing her hand for reassurance, letting her know that I’ll endure anything for her. I won’t fail her. Then I release her and take a single step toward Kenji.
A flicker of fear dances through his eyes. Then his men are striding forward, one carrying a cattle prod to ensure my cooperation. But I’m not moving until Kenji leaves the cell. I won’t leave him in here with Evi.
“Chain him to the wall this time,” Kenji says, turning to stride out to the open room.
The men flank me, and I step forward, keeping my eyes ahead but listening to ensure they both follow me out and close the cell door.
Then they steer me to the far wall of the chamber, where a similar set of chains to the one in my cage are bolted halfway up the wall.
They’re shorter. I won’t have much range of motion, and I wonder if today’s brand of torture is going to be a bit more…
delicate, more traditional to his heritage.
Bamboo slivers under the fingernails, perhaps.
Or maybe we’ll be moving on to removing body parts.
I don’t relish the idea.
But that won’t break me.
The men turn me and chain me in place so I’m standing, my wrists hanging loosely at my sides. I won’t be able to lift them to defend myself. But then, it’s more freedom than I had yesterday. So I’ll take it.
Kenji watches with mild amusement, his eyes dancing as he stops just a few feet away.
Then his dark eye flicks toward Evi, where she clings to the bars of our cell.
My chest tightens. I’ve endured everything he’s thrown at me, felt every whip, kick, and strike, but now…
now he’s looking at her the way a predator looks at a lamb.
“Get the girl,” he commands.
“Kenji, you bastard!” I snarl, jerking forward against my restraints, and he turns to look at me once more, pure vindictive pleasure written across his face. “You said this would stay between you and me.”
“Ah, see, that’s where assumptions can be tricky. I agreed to keep this between us yesterday. Today’s a brand-new day. And I have a shiny new toy I’ve been dying to play with.”
The howl that wrenches from me is halfway between animalistic and crazed, and I thrash against my metal bindings, reopening the scabs beneath them as I jerk and strain with all my might. But they hold fast, and my stomach plummets to the cold, hard ground as Kenji just chuckles.
Then turns to watch as his men unlock the cell once more and step inside for Evi.
My heart hammers as I watch on uselessly as Evi retreats to the far wall of the cell, pressing her back into the rough stone like a frightened rabbit.
“Please,” she implores, her eyes round and innocent as she begs the guards.
But they’re as cold as ice as the one holding the cattle prod lifts it and pulls the trigger, sending a crackling line of blue electricity between the pronged points.
“No, please!” she cries, her hands flying up in an act of submission. “I’ll go with you. Just please don’t use that on me.”
The man lowers the weapon, and Evi’s hands drop, her arms encircling her waist defensively. Then they’re upon her, grabbing her upper arms, stripping my sweater off of her before they haul her from the cell with unnecessary roughness.
“Get your hands off her!” I snarl as they drag her toward the chains I was hung from not so long ago.
One guard flinches back, his steps faltering at the venom in my tone. Then he seems to find his backbone, and carries on.
Slapping heavy metal around her wrists, they lock the manacles in place, then lift her arms to attach them to the chains. They crank her up nearly as high as they did me, and it tears me apart to watch as Evi strains when she’s forced onto her tippy-toes, balancing precariously in her bare feet.
My stomach knots dangerously, bile rising to my throat as the torn hem of her slip lifts with her arms until it’s just barely covering her modesty.
God, she looks so agonizingly vulnerable, helpless.
Far too much of her sun-kissed skin is on full display.
Her nipples strain against the silk of her nightie, taut and prominent because of the frigid chill of the room.
Her eyes meet mine, frightened and tearful, and the chains rattle as she trembles uncontrollably.
“You are… remarkable,” Kenji says, voice low, smooth, dangerous as he starts to circle her appreciatively. “I can see why a man would risk everything for you.” His fingertips brush the curve of her hip, and Evi shudders violently as tears stream openly down her face. “You have legs for days…”