“Did you just hear me?” I whispered.
My heart beat wildly against my chest with a fever of hope. I screamed so loud that my voice cut off and I began coughing. This time he pounded on the door with his fists. I leapt to my feet and strained to listen, but only heard the TV in the next room.
Jericho fell to his knees, covering his head with his arms, his fingers splayed. It was the look of despair, and it broke my heart.
“No, no,” I whispered. “Please, no. I have the knife, Jericho. You have to wait for me. I’m going to come get you—I promise.”
I pulled the knife from beneath my pillow and cut a hole in my nightgown, ripping away the bottom so it hung above my knees. I didn’t want anything interfering with crawling, running, or kicking.
Next, I removed the picture from the wall and pulled the hard wire away from the back, stuffing it beneath my pillow. The stubborn nail was stuck in a plank of wood behind the wall, so I tossed the picture on the far side of the bed and examined the room. Hawk had moved the end table so the lamp and pen were no longer within reach.
I gripped the iron bars on the bed and pulled, hoping to break something.
At that point, I’d done everything I could do. I vowed I’d never complain again about breaking in new shoes. I was also going to let my wolf roll in the dirt all she wanted, and maybe treat myself to a few dozen donuts when I got out of here.
Hell’s bells, I was going to dunk those bad boys in hot cocoa to my heart’s content. Calories shmalories.
I didn’t know how long Jericho could hang on, but I had to get him out of that room. He was the one who needed saving. Jericho had found his salvation through family and music. He’d finally given up the demons he’d battled, and sure, maybe he still slept around, but he was miles more of a man than he’d been before. I wished I’d told him that. I was proud of the Shifter he had become.
Except now, everything he’d worked hard for was threatened by a blanket of drugs inside a pressure cooker. Hawk wouldn’t be gone for long, so I prepared to fight. I couldn’t allow him to move me out of the house, or I wouldn’t be able to free Jericho. This was my last chance.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next.
When I glanced up at the screen, Jericho was lying on his back with something tied around his arm and a needle in his hand.
Convulsing.
I screamed for him. Screamed his name so loud that it ruptured time and space. I somehow managed to stand on my feet and pull the bed a few inches away from the wall.
No, no, no were the only words pouring out of my mouth.
When Hawk burst into the room with a plastic bag in his hand, my eyes went wild with rage.
He moved toward me like a cyclone. I pulled out the knife and stabbed him in the chest. He stumbled backward, clutching the black handle, eyes wide with surprise. I grabbed the wire and thrashed him with it.
“You killed him! How could you kill that beautiful man!”
Red slashes appeared on his skin from where I mercilessly struck him. He gripped his hand around the handle of the knife and pulled it from his chest, holding his hand to the wound. Hawk stepped back and glanced at the television. A sadistic smile stretched across his face as he savored his victory and my anguish.
“Now you see, Izzy. Our weaknesses define who we are. That’s what makes selling drugs to these addicts so damn easy. Did you really think he’d be able to abstain from the only thing that matters to him? Eventually they all give in, and they’ll pay whatever it takes for just one more trip. I’m glad you enjoyed your meal. I put something extra in there to make you go nighty-night.”
I screamed like a feral animal, still clawing the air, blinded by my hot tears. I finally collapsed on the floor, pulling at the cuffs so forcefully that blood trickled from my wrist.
“I’ll be back, Iz. Once I shift and you’re knocked out, we’re going to have a real good time before I hand you over to my buyer,” he promised, shutting the door behind him.
Chapter 13
Jericho stared vacantly at the ceiling, saliva running down his cheek. Isabelle infiltrated his thoughts. He turned his head to the side, heart racing, the band still tied around his bicep and pinching his skin. The concrete floor felt like a sheet of ice against his back in the stuffy room.
Jericho could survive without food longer than most people. He had rationed the water and drank as much as he could to stay hydrated and alert.
He thought about the shrill scream that had almost stopped his heart. The second time, he knew without a doubt it was Isabelle. She was somewhere in this house, and he didn’t want to imagine the kind of torture that animal was inflicting upon her.
Jericho wanted to crush Hawk’s bones and incinerate his remains. He thought about the drugs in the corner and how that was his ticket out of here. If that sicko wanted to watch Jericho self-destruct on camera, then it was time to put an end to his twisted game.