“I’m not sure, honestly,” I answered, knowing his plan to rescue me was going to be a lot harder if I couldn’t help them help me. “I haven’t had to walk in a long time. I’m either lying down while they beat me, or they’re carrying me to and from a car boot.” His grip on my hair tightened, pulling at my scalp. “I can try though.”
I thought about how I was missing toenails and wondered if I would be able to stand the excruciating pain that was going to cause as I ran through god knew what to get out. It would be so much easier if one of them was able to carry me.
“No,” he said firmly. “You aren’t going to risk hurting yourself even more. I can carry you, okay? I texted them we were in the basement before I followed you guys down here, so they’re going to get us when it’s safe.”
As he finished that sentence, gunshots and shouting started above us. Heavy footsteps pounded on the floor above our heads, and muffled screaming could be heard in both English and Spanish.
“We need to move against the wall in case anyone comes down here to check on you, okay? I need to make sure I can put myself between you and them.” He lifted me in his arms and slowly stood before taking cautious steps towards a corner of the room. Once we bumped into the walls, he sat me down on the floor, and I tried not to protest at the searing hot pain that had rippled through my body.
I felt him box me in with his body before he placed a gun in my hand. More and more gunshots were going off upstairs, and the adrenaline that began coursing through my body helped numb the pain and exhaustion. I was so close to getting out. I was so close to being safe with my boys again.
Suddenly, the beginning notes of “Back in Black” by AC/DC could be heard through the walls, getting closer and closer to where we were. I felt myself smile for the first time in weeks.
“Sebastian,” Tristan said on a sigh before I could ask. “He thought you would find it funny.”
I burst out laughing, holding my aching ribs in one hand and gripping the gun in the other. I leaned forward and laid my forehead on Tristan’s jean-clad leg.
“These guys are so fucked.”
The cavalry had arrived. And these assholes had no idea who they had fucked with.