by K. C. Lynn
“I love you, too,” I choke out. “I promise, we’ll be back soon. Be strong for Faith, okay?”
“I will.” She moves for Cade next, giving him one more hug, too. “I love you, Big Guy.”
“I love you too, kid. Everything is going to be fine.” Putting her back to her feet, he pulls her beanie over her face, making her chuckle through her tears. “Be good and stay out of trouble.”
“I always do,” she says, making us both grunt.
The girl finds trouble wherever she goes. Thankfully, she’s been trained to kick ass and is able to get herself out of the ridiculous situations she finds herself in.
Cade and I approach the truck and toss our bags in the back before climbing inside. Sawyer and I sit in the backseat while Cade and Jaxson take the front.
As we pull away, I chance a look at the house, seeing all the women in a group hug, finding comfort in each other. For any family this is hard but especially for them, because they are the ones who have to see the scars every day.
“Well that sucked,” Sawyer says, relaxing back into his seat as the truck is filled with grim silence.
“Yeah, Jules hasn’t stopped crying since I got home this afternoon.”
“We’ll make it quick,” Cade says, his voice hard and determined.
Sawyer claps my shoulder. “Damn right we will. We got this.”
I pray he’s right and everything goes as planned, because living with any more deaths on my conscience will be the final nail in the coffin. Unless it belongs to those bastards, because if they have harmed one hair on her body, their blood will be shed and I will fucking bathe in it.
CHAPTER 6
Alissa
My aching body violently shakes from the dampness in the air. The filthy cot my wrist is chained to reeks of death and despair.
I have no idea how many days have passed; time has become nothing more than bleak darkness. I have no sense of reality at all. Not with the amount of hits I’ve taken to the head from my desperate attempts to escape.
At first they locked me in this room, brought me food and water that I barely touched. Most of the time, they left me alone and unharmed. Except for one. One in particular whose leering eyes made my stomach rebel, his hands rough and unwanted. Thankfully, he was called off and ordered away. At least I think he was, none of them speak English.
I was terrified and knew I had to get out of here before they did God knows what to me. Despite my best effort, my attempt to escape was futile and things went from bad to worse. Now I’m left with my body in worse shape than it was in and a nasty bump protruding from my head.
I still have no idea what they want with me or why I’m here. I’m assuming they want money and that’s why they took a picture of me holding up a newspaper with the day’s date on it. However, the more time that passes, I become more uncertain. My parents would have paid the money by now. Both my father and stepfather have it. The picture was taken days ago…I think.
So what are they waiting for?
My tortured thoughts are obliterated at the sound of my door being opened. My heart hammers against my chest, fear twisting in my belly when I see it’s the one with wandering hands, and he’s alone.
He starts forward, his yellow teeth gleaming in the dark as he flashes me a malicious smile. I try to sit up but my head swims violently from the nasty blow I was delivered earlier.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He makes the scolding noise, shaking his head. Standing over my bed, he trails his dirty finger down my cheek and between my breasts, my filthy tank top offering minimal coverage.
I shirk away from his unwanted touch, disgust crawling up my throat. His hand grips my jaw painfully as he shouts at me in a language I can’t understand, but his anger is apparent.
A keening cry hisses through my clenched teeth as he begins lowering his face to mine. Bringing my legs up, I kick him in the stomach before his vile mouth can make contact.
My jaw is released as he stumbles back. His black eyes narrow, a vicious snarl leaving him as he steps forward and backhands me across the face.
Black spots dance in my vision, the powerful blow snapping my head to the side. Fear robs me of breath as his heavy weight settles over top of me, his rancid breath hitting my face.
“Stop it!” I buck and fight against him with every bit of strength I have left, praying someone hears me and stops him again. My free hand pushes his face away, fingers tearing into his fleshy cheek. “Get off of me!” A desperate scream rips from my throat as I continue to lose the battle.
Please, God. Not this. I won’t survive it.
“Please, stop,” I plead with a sob.
A second later his weight is gone and I’m able to breathe. In the darkness, I hear the muffled shock of my assailant before a guttural snarl fills the air, this one belonging to someone else as he severs the pirate’s throat. Blood sprays from his jugular, the warm liquid spilling onto me.
A scream explodes past my lips, piercing the desolate air around us. The hulking shadow drops next to me, his hand clapping over my mouth. I fight against him in the same manner as I did my attacker.
“Shh, I’m not going to hurt you.”
I continue to push him, crying behind his hand—fearing for the sharp blade to reach my throat.
His forehead rests next to mine, his mouth brushing my ear. “Alissa, baby, it’s me—Christopher.”
I still, shock slamming into me like a sledgehammer. He brings his face to hover above mine, his hazel irises glowing wildly in the dark.
Eyes I could never forget. Ones I often dream about.
He removes his hand as I remain still and silent, my breathing heavy.
“Am I dreaming?” I ask.
“No. It’s me,” he whispers, his fingers gently skimming across my swollen cheek. “Your dad sent me.”
A relieved sob shatters my chest; hope surging through me for the first time in days.
“I’m going to get you out of here but you need to be quiet, okay?”
I nod and watch as he reaches down, unclipping something from his waist before he begins picking the lock at my wrist.
“I have her,” he says quietly, speaking to no one I can see. It isn’t long before I realize he has an earpiece. “I took out another one.” The information is delivered between clenched teeth, his jaw locked tight.
I stare up at him, shadows cast upon his hard face as he concentrates on the lock. I’m afraid to blink, worried if I do he will disappear.
“That should leave two,” he says before bringing his eyes back to me. “How many have you seen, Alissa?”
It takes me a moment to snap out of myself and answer. “Ten…I think.”
“Shit,” he breathes. “Make that six left.”
Soon, my chain unlocks, freeing my wrist. I bite back a cry of pain as icy blood rushes down my arm. Before I’m able to sit up, the sound of heavy footsteps echo from down the hall.
Dread seizes my chest and Christopher tenses. He tosses my hand back up over my head. “Don’t move and don’t make a sound,” he orders then disappears.
Just like that—gone—vanishing into thin air and leaving me alone.
My teeth sink into my trembling lip as I remain silent, praying he’s not far.
The man is alone as he checks on me, his steps faltering when he sees my door open. He begins speaking in his language, casting his flashlight over me. When the bright beam lands on his dead friend, his voice raises, steps heavy and hard as he storms inside.
Christopher emerges from the shadows like a dark illusionist, his powerful arms wrapping around him. He silences the man with his hand then a sickening crack fills the air. The man drops dead, landing on top of his decapitated friend.
Bile inches up my throat, my stomach recoiling at the gruesome sight. In the blink of an eye, Christopher is next to me, grabbing my arm to help me up.
“Get into position, we’re coming,” he says to whoever is on the other side of the wire.
My body scre
ams in protest, my vision darkening as I get to my feet. Christopher catches me as my knees buckle, his arm sweeping under my legs to carry me.
“I’m sorry, it’s my head,” I tell him through the ringing in my ears.
“It’s okay. I got you.”
My eyes close as he rushes out of the cell in stealth silence, the hammering behind my eyes radiating sheer agony. I feel him come to an abrupt halt, his body tensing as he curls behind a corner to hide.
The distant sound of voices infiltrates my ears. My arms tighten around his neck, terrified for what we’re about to encounter.
“Shh,” he whispers, his body so still I wonder if he’s breathing at all.
After a few seconds, he steps out from the corner we’re in and is on the move again, his strides quick. He shoves through a door that leads outside, setting off an alarm.
Christopher picks up speed, running harder and faster, sending waves of nausea to roll through me. I try to breathe through it, inhaling the fresh air that I haven’t had in days, and vaguely register the sound of a helicopter in the distance.
Relief surges through my chest but vanishes when gunfire explodes around us. I scream, panic locking in my chest as I cling tighter to Christopher.
“Keep moving, I got ‘em,” someone yells. “Evans is coming up on the left.”
The gunshots fade as we approach the helicopter; heavy, harsh winds thrusting against my aching body. Christopher sails through the air as he leaps inside, keeping me tight in his arms and taking the brunt of our landing.
I hear someone drop in behind us not long after.
“Go, go, go!” the order is bellowed seconds before the chopper lifts from the ground, surging forward.
“You good, Evans?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Did you see that shit? Nailed that fucker right between the eyes,” he announces, pride thick in his voice. “I still fucking got it!”
I feel Christopher’s grunt from where my head remains buried in his chest.
“Why don’t you put her down here?” another person speaks. “We can—”
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Christopher snaps, holding me tighter.
My fingers curl in his shirt as I look up at him, his fierce eyes penetrating my wounded heart.
“I have her.” His voice is softer, knuckles grazing my cheek in a gentle gesture that I’ve never forgotten.
I take solace in his arms, just like I have many times before. After feeling only terror for almost a week, I know now that everything will be okay.
CHAPTER 7
Christopher
Two days later, I walk into the hospital, carrying a bouquet of yellow tulips, wondering if I made the right choice.
Are they still her favorite?
I fucking agonized over the simple decision before giving myself a mental punch in the face for being such a pussy. You’d think I was fifteen again, but it’s not that simple. Not when it comes to Alissa, the girl I’ve thought about and ached for almost every night for the past five years.
We got back yesterday afternoon and the ambulance was there when we landed, waiting to take her away. I had no choice but to let her go. It was damn hard to do. For those few precious hours that I was able to keep her in my arms, a certain peace fell over me, a sense of contentment I haven’t felt since I’ve been back.
Since…Billy.
I bury the name quickly before the shame and guilt can pull me under. Instead, I focus on the girl I love and lost, hoping she’s okay. I’m still not sure what she all endured. For the majority of the time I held her in my arms, she slept.
I spoke to Derek briefly last night. After receiving his gratitude, all I got from him was that she’d been admitted, likely for a few days, and was asking for me. It was all I needed to hear. The only reason I didn’t come sooner was because I wanted to give her time with her family.
As I approach the nurses’ station, I come face-to-face with the one woman who despises me most. A woman I never did anything to, except love her daughter. Her loser husband stands next to her, rubbing her back as she cries. When her tear-filled eyes meet mine they flare in surprise before narrowing furiously.
Yep. She still hates me.
“What are you doing here?” she spits the question.
Ignoring her hostility, I’m about to ask the nurse which room Alissa is in when Derek steps out of the waiting area.
“He’s here to see our daughter,” he answers, coming to stand next to me.
“He is not welcome here.”
Big surprise. I’ve never been welcomed by her, and I didn’t expect to be this time either.
“Yes, he is. He saved her life, and she has been asking for him. You have no say.”
“Watch how you talk to her,” Richard threatens, stepping in where he doesn’t belong.
Derek doesn’t back down, fury radiating from him. “You stay the hell out of my way. This is about my daughter. She is the only one that matters.”
The nurse standing at the station watches nervously, her hand resting on the phone.
Not wanting to take the chance of Derek getting kicked out, I step in front of him, turning my back to the other two. “Can you show me to her room?”
After a long, tense second, he nods and leads me past the others, knocking into Richard’s shoulder as he does. I follow behind him, ignoring the death glare I get from queen bitch.
Jesus, she is one angry woman. How she is related to someone as sweet and beautiful as Alissa is beyond me.
“I’m sorry about that,” Derek apologizes when we’re far enough away.
“Don’t worry about it.” Her opinion of me hasn’t mattered for a long time. “So how is she?” I ask. “How long is she going to have to stay here?”
“If all goes well she could be released as early as tomorrow. We’re just waiting on a few more tests to clear. Other than some bumps and bruises and a little dehydration, she’s fine. At least physically.”
“And emotionally?” I ask, fearing for his answer. That can hurt a hell of a lot more than any physical blow.
He comes to a stop just outside her door. “Honestly, I don’t know. She hasn’t spoken much about it.”
“Do you know if…did they…” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence but I don’t have to, he knows where my thoughts are.
“No. They didn’t sexually assault her.”
I blow out a heavy breath, relief surging through me at the information. When I saw that bastard on top of her, I wasn’t sure. Feeling his warm blood spill on my face is something I will relish in for the rest of my fucking life.
“Go on in. I’ll make sure there are no interruptions,” he says, gesturing over to his ex.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” I reach for the door handle but he grabs my arm.
“No, thank you,” he says, his eyes filled with gratitude. “That doesn’t seem sufficient enough for what you did. If you ever need anything, Christopher, anything at all, let me know. I’m indebted to you for life.”
I’m about to tell him that he doesn’t owe me a damn thing but he walks away before I get the chance.
Inhaling a deep breath, I knock lightly then open the door and step inside. The sight of her battered and laid up in the hospital bed stops me cold, her clear whiskey eyes pinning me in place.
“Christopher,” she whispers, gracing me with a heart-stopping smile that looks anything but weak; the power of it almost knocks me on my ass. My name falling past her lips is the best fucking melody that’s ever fallen upon my ears. It’s a sound I’ve missed so much.
“Hey.” Closing the door behind me, I take a seat in the chair next to her bed and pass her the flowers. “I probably should have had the lady put them in a vase for you. I wasn’t thinking. Sorry,” I say awkwardly, sounding like a complete fucking idiot.
“No, they are perfect, thank you.” She brings them to her nose, her eyes closing for a fraction of a second as she smells them.
I take the opportunity to look
her over, hating the colorful marks on her skin yet still admiring all the things about her that I’ve missed. The fullness of her pink lips, the slope of her perfect nose, and curve of her delicate cheekbones. Places that I used to love with my lips.
My fingers twitch with the need to touch her but I curl them into my fist, knowing I lost that right long ago.
When her eyes reopen, they collide with mine, making all the dead parts of me come back to life.
“You remembered my favorite,” she whispers.
There isn’t a single thing I don’t remember. Everything about her is unforgettable.
Instead of voicing that, I respond with a nod and move on. “You’re looking better.”
“You lie. I look terrible,” she mumbles miserably.
“Impossible.”
A shy smile touches her lips, one that still stops my fucking heart from beating.
“Your dad says they could be releasing you as early as tomorrow.”
“I’m hoping they do. I need my own bed and privacy. My mother and her, ‘I told you so,’ is a little much right now.”
It pisses me off to hear that she’s been on her case. I don’t like that she went to one of the most dangerous places in the world either but now is not the time to give her shit about it. “I ran into her in the hallway. I see she’s still a very happy woman.”
The smile I hoped to elicit doesn’t come. “Was she cruel to you?”
I shrug. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with it. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t give a shit what your mother thinks of me. I never have.”
Her eyes hold mine, the pain of our past seizing the moment. It’s a pain I’ve harbored since walking away from her five years ago.
“I’m glad you came to see me,” she reveals softly.
“I needed to know you’re okay.”
“I am. Thanks to you,” she whispers, but her eyes say so much more. “What you did for me, Christopher. What you all sacrificed for me…” The crack in her voice has me unable to hold back a second longer.
Clasping her soft hand in both of mine, I bring it to my mouth for a kiss. “It was no sacrifice, Alissa. Don’t you know, that even after all this time, I would still die for you?”