She was Emma’s mom.
It was a family biz after all, and yet I was stunned to learn that she was involved. I couldn’t see her as being the mastermind behind the madness. That had to be all Emma’s dad, who I yet to official meet.
No rush on my part. I would be just as content to never set eyes on the nutjob.
She walked just inside the doorway, blocking the exit. My eyes flickered to the opened door and all I could think was, if I could just get through that door. The only thing standing between me and my freedom was a woman at least twice my age and not bigger than a stick. She looked like a push-over, nothing I couldn’t throw my weight into.
“You don’t want to try that,” Emma’s mom warned in a quiet and calm voice, sad almost.
I stayed silent, just staring at her while my mind worked like a hamster wheel, spinning and spinning. Why shouldn’t I try to get free? I could totally take her. How much worse could it be outside these four walls?
She must have seen the doubt in my eyes. “I’m not alone,” she sighed. “There are men stationed outside this room. Do you think you can get past them all? Men trained, armed, and ruthless.”
My stomach dropped miles. My shoulders sagged. My eyes brimmed with hopelessness. “You’re Emma’s mom,” I said, surprised at how foreign my voice sounded.
Mrs. Deen’s whole face lit up at them mention of Emma. It made me wonder if she ever got to spend quality time with her daughter or if husband monopolized it all with his grueling-demon-hate training exercises to kill.
“I am.” She set the tray of food she’d been carrying on a tiny table right inside the door. Again, the sight of food made me what to vomit all over the pristine room. I averted my eyes before I emptied my stomach. “Here, I brought you something to eat. You’ll need to keep up your strength.”
“Strength?” I echoed, afraid of what she meant. They were just going to kill me in the end anyway, what did I need strength for? I wasn’t deluding myself to think that they weren’t going to hurt me. Emma had made it plainly clear that she wanted us dead. I would rather starve to death then lead Chase, Travis, or Lexi here. But still…“For what?” I couldn’t refrain from asking, my own rapidly progressing thoughts got the best of me.
Her green eyes got gloomy. “It’s not for me to say.”
I got pissed. “The hell it isn’t.”
Irrational anger was what it was all about.
My emotions were all over the place, turning fear into anger. Anger because she wouldn’t help me. Anger that I found myself locked up and alone. Anger because Chase wasn’t here…with me…for me. But at the same time I was eternally grateful that he wasn’t locked up with me, knowing that I didn’t have it in me to watch the guy I love lose his pride. His honor. And most importantly his life.
Chase would stop at nothing to protect me, even if that meant giving up his own. Possibly even giving up the lives of those he loved the most. He might not have said that he loved me, but I knew in the deeps of my soul the lengths he would go to protect me, and that had to mean something.
Now, as I found myself in a modern day dungeon, those three little words I longed to hear didn’t seem as important as just being close to him, or keeping him safe for once.
Mrs. Deen’s haunting green eyes captured mine. “It will be worse if you fight them. Worse for you both.”
Both.
I got dizzy and sunk back down on the bed with my head between my legs. Both. Echoed over and over again in my head, and the tribal mark on my hip went tingling.
Chase and I.
This wasn’t just about me. Duh. I was just bait, the booby prize. What they really wanted was Chase.
And that wasn’t something I was willing to give up, not to save my own neck, not even to spare my own mother from the pain of losing me. Chase had already done so much for me. I owed him this and so much more. My only regret was I wouldn’t be able to see his face one last time, kiss those heavenly lips good-bye.
A single tear ran down my cheek. I didn’t even have the energy to wipe it away. Why bother?
She left shortly after that, locking the metal door behind her and submerging me to darkness. As soon as I heard the click, I lost it, like going-out-of-my-mind-koo-koo. Throwing myself against the door, I beat my fist on the immoveable door, screaming for her to help me. For anyone to help me. Begging someone to help me. With a fiery, swollen throat and now cut and bleeding fists, I sank to the stony floor, weeping uncontrollably.
And to think I thought I’d already wasted all my tears, but here they came again. I’d be dehydrated in no time. How much puffier and red could a person’s eyes get? I probably looked like an over rip raspberry.