Survivor (First to Fight #2)(54)
“Why don’t you guys go and we’ll catch up,” Ben says, pulling his truck up next to ours. We’d managed to snag a parking spot just as someone was leaving.
“All right,” Jack yells over the sound of the crowd. “We’ll meet you at registration.”
“I don’t remember this being such a big thing,” I say to him as we navigate through the masses of people with a huge net of basketballs and their duffles of uniforms and God-only-knows-what.
“Probably because you are a girl and were more interested in playing on the monkey bars or something.” He spots whatever he’s looking for over the sea of bobbing heads and he dives into the mass of bodies, holding tight onto my hand so I don’t get lost in the crowd. “There’s the registration table. We’ll find out where their team is at, then we’ll get a good spot on the bleachers.”
I shouldn’t be enjoying today, not when I know what’s waiting for me, but with a tight hold on Jack’s hand, I feel like I can conquer anything. I pull him back and he glances at me.
“Everything okay?”
Smiling, I press my lips to his. “I’ll talk to your friend,” I say. “I want to help her.”
He stops the boys with a raised hand. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, it’s time I stopped running, right? And if I were her I’d want to know there were other’s like me.”
“Have I mentioned you’re the bravest women I know?”
“I don’t know about that, but I know I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“You could have, but I’m glad you’re letting me help you.” He kisses me again. “Finally.” Then another kiss on my forehead. “After the game we’ll have to renegotiate our friends truce.”
“Why? Wanna be friends-with-benefits?” I tease.
He slaps a playful hand on my ass and hands me the leash where Rosie is happily winding around our legs. “Why don’t you take this one to water some grass while we hit the registration table. The line looks long, and I don’t think she’ll be able to wait.”
Jack and the boys melt into the crowd and Rosie tugs the leash to a patch of untrampled grass. I turn my face into the sun until it warms me from the inside out.
When I open my eyes, I blink, not trusting what I’m seeing. When Rosie pushes to my leg, the fur on her back sticking up as she growls, I realize I’m not seeing things.
Damian pushes his way through the crowd and comes to stand by my side.
“There you are. C’mon, honey. Wake up.”
It’s the voice from my nightmares, one I hoped to never hear again. I try to jerk awake, but the signals must be misfiring because no matter how much I scream at my limbs to move, they don’t do my bidding.
“That’s my girl. Give it a few minutes for it to wear off. No, no, don’t try to move. It’ll just make you dizzy.”
Ignoring that, I attempt to bring my hands in front of me to protect the blows that are sure to come, but to no avail.
I recognize the smell first. Sweat. Dirt. Rubber. Oh God, no.
We’re in Jack’s gym, though not in the storage room from before, in the main section. I blink rapidly, allowing the image to coalesce. We’re in the ring, the bank of mirrors to my back. My arms are secured to the top line with nylon rope, my feet to the bottom. There’s a gag stuffed in my mouth, already soaked with saliva.
Damian paces in front of me, glancing at the front doors. The fact that he hasn’t pushed me down and commenced with a reunion tour of our last time here causes hope to flare in my chest.
He hears my disturbed sounds and turns to face me, a smile twisting his features. Tugging the gag down, he says, “Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon, sweetheart.”
My tongue feels two sizes too big for my mouth. “It will be over even faster if you let me go. Just let me go before the police get here. I’m sure they’re already looking for me.”
“So they can take me away again? Lock me up in a cage? After what I did for our country? I don’t think so.” He starts pacing again. “I don’t f*cking think so. Soon as this is over, I’m going to take you far away from here so we won’t have to deal with this anymore. It’ll be just me and you. Like I should have done in the first place. Like I would have done if they hadn’t pinned that assault on me.”
“I can’t go with you,” I start, but he strides across the ring and jerks my head back by the hair. He pulls so hard I feel chunks of it coming out by the root. I swallow down the scream that threatens to break free and force myself to focus.
“You say that like you have a choice.” He presses a bruising, brutal kiss against my lips. Mashing them together until I taste the metallic tang of blood. “Remember, what I’m capable of. Little Emma will only be the beginning. If you won’t cooperate, there’s always Livvie. Donnie. Rafe.” Then I notice the reflection of light off of the silver knife clutched in his shaking hands. He brings it up to press into my throat.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
He pulls away again and resumes pacing. “We don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
In the few days since I last saw him, he’s visibly deteriorated, and I wonder if the madness I remember seeing in his eyes has eaten him up, made him erratic. Based on the way he’s waving the knife around, that doesn’t bode well for me. Or for Jack.