“What happened before?” Xander asks, cocking his head to the side as if the newfound angle well help decipher what I’m saying better.
“This is probably going to sound like a lie, but I swear it’s not. I was kidnapped… twice. One time from my apartment and then a second time from the hospital, but the first time it wasn’t Christian. It was…” I pause, wondering if I can tell this part without starting to cry. I don’t want to, but tears are already dwelling in my eyes. Blinking the tears away, I continue, “His name was Zane. He kidnapped me first, but not to hurt me. He just wanted to keep me safe.”
“Zane?” Xander says his name as if he’s tasting it. He and Ivan exchange a glance, then he turns back to me and asks, “Who is Zane to you?”
“We both grew up in foster care. We were in the same home at one point. A bad one.” My voice breaks at the end, and I’m no longer able to hold back the tears, no matter how hard I try. The memories of that time rush forward, the memory of him. William, Zane, how I lost him twice now. Unable to look at the two men, I lower my gaze and stare at a random speck on the table instead.
“Do you know where Zane is now?” Ivan is the one who speaks this time, his voice soft.
“He is dead.” I start to sob. “Christian killed him.”
“I think I can put the rest together myself. Christian must have taken you to get to Zane,” Xander says.
“So, you believe me?” I glance up at him, hopeful that he is going to let me go.
“I do, but you did withhold information, and that’s pretty close to lying.” He starts tapping his finger against the table like he is thinking about what to do with me.
Please, don’t kill me… “Ivan asked you to tell him everything, and you didn’t. I don’t like that. How can I be sure that you aren’t still keeping things from me? I don’t like liars, Dove, and I’ve killed men for lesser things.”
“I’m not! I swear. I don’t know anything else.” The words spill from my lips, and I slam my knee against the table, attempting to get them out.
“How old are you?” Xander asks, changing the subject abruptly.
“Twenty-one,” I tell him, wondering why he cares about my age. When he doesn’t say anything else, I start to worry. I chew the inside of my cheek until I taste blood.
“Please, just let me go,” I beg, in a last-ditch effort.
“I can’t do that,” he finally says, his voice clipped. “You’re going to have to stay here, for now at least, until we get everything figured out.”
“What? Why?” I stand up, having the sudden need to move. Or maybe for one second, I just want to feel bigger than the two men sitting in front of me. “You can’t just keep me here. I’m not an object that can be taken and passed off to another person. I’m a human.”
“I can, and I will.” Xander gets up as well, turning his back to me. “Put her in one of the rooms back here. Have two guys posted in front of her door at all times. No one gets in this place without my permission.”
“You got it.” Ivan nods, and Xander disappears from the room, the imprint he made lingers behind like a heavy fog. “Come on, I’ll bring you to your room.”
“You mean prison?”
“Call it what you want, but it’s a whole lot nicer than the shithole Christian kept you in.”
“Great,” I murmur under my breath. It’s still a prison. We leave the room, and I follow him down the hallway, knowing that there is no use in trying to run. I saw the security outside this building. I wouldn’t make it ten feet out there, without someone shooting me. Escape isn’t an option at this point. I’ll have to make do with what’s here and come up with a plan later.
When we get to the very last door at the end of the hall, he opens it and waves me inside. To my surprise, I find that he wasn’t lying. It is much nicer than my last cell, and no matter how bitter I am about still being a captive, this is a huge relief.
The room is small and doesn’t hold much, but there is a bed inside. A bed with fresh sheets, a pillow, and a blanket. The second thing I notice is an attached bathroom.
Thank god.
“There is a shower in the bathroom. Towels and everything else you need should be there too. The closet has extra clothes. They’re men’s clothes, but they’re clean.”
“Thanks…” I murmur before I can stop myself. I shouldn’t be thanking him for anything. Then again, I guess it could be worse. These guys might not be good guys, but they are definitely the lesser of the evils I’ve had to endure.