Another hour passes, or more. So much time escapes and all my fight has gone. In its place, only fear and exhaustion remain.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I whisper as I stare at the camera, imagining all the answers it could give me. And not a single one of them offers me comfort.
I find it hard to believe that when I first heard his voice, I was so desperate for him to take me away. The blame lays on my survival instincts. The fear of what those men would have done to me made me desperate for Carter to steal me away. My mind drifts back to that moment, and I wish I’d looked harder for a different escape.
He’s going to come back. And I need to be able to fight him. But how can I, when I don’t know when he’s coming, and I have to sleep? Eventually, I have to sleep.
I doze off once, at least once that I know of, and startle awake only to find myself aching on the floor. Forcing myself up, I try to open the door once again and then cry on the floor beneath it. I imagine him opening it in that moment, and that alone scares me to move to the farthest corner in the room.
How heartbreaking it is, that the only bit of comfort I have is knowing that when the monster comes back, I’ll be as far away from him as I can possibly be. Even if it is only ten feet.
But it’s what I needed to finally give in to sleep.
Of all the things to dream about, I dream of my mother.
And once again, I should have known better than to let my mind wander to the memory of her death.
Chapter 7
Carter
* * *
She fell asleep after fourteen hours of looking for an escape, slamming the chair into the door, screaming profanities, rocking against the wall, and whispering all her regrets.
And I watched every minute of it well into the early morning. Obsessed with what she’d do and watching the fight leave her as every hour passed.
After she’d realized her efforts were hopeless, she hummed softly. So low, that I thought it was only a buzz from the camera until I turned up the volume. She hummed for hours. I don’t even know if she noticed.
She’d finally fallen asleep, the hum of a lullaby still soft on her lips. The thrill of victory sang in my blood.
It was only then that I left my office and the monitors, reminding myself to be patient. I wouldn’t be surprised if the carpet beneath my desk is worn from the pacing of my shoes against it.
My last thought as I left the office and checked the monitor on my phone, was that as much as she was fighting now, she’d cave. She’d give in and obey. She has no choice. And time is on my side. Not hers.
An hour into going through orders and updates on each of the deliveries, I heard her screaming again. But instead of it bringing the buzz of a challenge, her screams curdled my blood.
The sweat is still hot on my skin by the time I finally get to the cell and kick the door open with the gun cocked in my hand. My heart pounds in my chest. Aria’s screams are violent and shrill.
I don’t know what the fuck happened, who the hell got to her or how they got in here. But someone has their hands on her.
My heart hammers and the anger of her defiance is dulled by something primal, a raw fear that sends a prickle of unease through my body in an instant. I can hear the terror in her voice as she cries out into the dark room for someone to help her.
Someone’s in there. Someone’s hurting her. It’s undeniable in her screams. I can’t fucking breathe. I finally have her in my grasp. Mine.
My breathing is barely controlled with the gun raised in the air above her place on the floor. Whoever it is will die a painful death for taking what’s mine. “Please!” she cries out, her eyes shut tight as her body stiffens and her back arches on the mattress. She screams again, trembling, and helpless. Her small body is cradled into itself.
“Carter!” I hear Jase call out to me, the door to the cell still open. I can hear him running down the hall.
Now that the cell is open, anyone and everyone in here can hear her screams.
My gun lowers slowly as Jase enters the room behind me. His breathing is ragged as he closes the distance and stands next to me. Our shadows tower over her small frame, lying destitute in the bed. She doesn’t stop crying out, and although she doesn’t sob, the sounds are there.