Page 3 of Protecting Josie
He looked like he was someone important. And he was in handcuffs. So the men who’d brought him here had to be a little scared of him. Of what he could do.
As she watched, he licked his lips in his sleep and moaned a little as he shifted on the concrete floor.
Thedrip drip dripof the water into her little cup made Josie glance at it. It was almost full. It took two days to get a full cup. She usually tried to wait until then, so she could drink it all at once and trick her belly into thinking she’d given it food.
This man had no leak on his side. No cup to collect water.
But surely he’d be given food and water. If he was as important as she figured he might be, their captors would have to take care of him if they wanted to exchange him for a political prisoner or hold him for ransom.
Still…unease sat in her gut like a lead ball. What if they didn’t? What if they left him there like they did her? With his hands cuffed to his ankles, he wouldn’t be able to move very well. And a man as big as he was would need a lot more sustenance to stay alive than she did.
It wasn’t fair.
That she was here. That she’d been left to rot. That this man had been captured. Nothing about what happened to either of them was fair. And Josie felt anger rising up within her. She’d suppressed that emotion over the weeks. Suppressedallemotions. Because being mad, or scared, or feelinganyheightened emotions wouldn’t help her situation. Being desperate and angry and terrified had only earned her beatings. So she’d learned to feel nothing. Think about nothing. She counted how many drips of water fell into her cup for entertainment.
But now this man’s arrival made her emotions well up once more. It was uncomfortable and scary. Josie didn’t like it. She wanted this man togo. Leave. Be taken away and never returned. She knew what to expect in this hellhole when it was just her. But with his arrival, she had a gut feeling everything would change.
She just didn’t know if it would be for better or worse.
Time passed, and Josie kept her gaze locked on the man. She memorized the shape of his face, how one ear stuck out just a tiny bit more than the other; the fact his beard was full, not patchy like some men’s; the pattern of the blood rolling down his temple into his hair. The way his big toe canted in slightly on his left foot, but was straight on his right.
She had no idea how long she stared at the man, but it was long enough that she’d know him anywhere. She could meet him on the street years from now, and she’d immediatelyrecognize him. Her mind catalogued every detail, tucking them all away. Why? She had no idea. But it felt…important.
Suddenly, the door to their prison slammed against the wall, making the man’s eyes pop open.
And for some reason, they locked right onto her.
Blue. His eyes were light blue. His hair was reddish-brown. And with light pouring in, she saw that he had freckles. Lots of them. Over every inch of skin that wasn’t covered by his beard. The captors heading for his cell were talking, saying words Josie couldn’t understand. Still, the man didn’t look at them. His gaze remained on her. Studying Josie as carefully as she’d examined him while he was sleeping.
Neither spoke out loud, and yet, it felt as if he could see down to her soul. Her black, withered, completely damaged soul.
The door to his cell opened and then their captors were there. Hauling the man to his feet, manhandling him, shoving him as they dragged him toward the door.
Josie lost eye contact with the man briefly, but as they dragged him past her cell, his head turned and he looked right at her once more. She was still huddled in the corner, doing her best to stay out of sight, to not draw the attention of men she had no doubt could end her struggle to live with ease.
“Showtime,” he said—and winked.
The man actuallywinked. As if he was having fun! But the blood on his face was real. The pain his captors had inflicted was easy to see in his eyes, at least for her, because she’d experienced the same thing.
Then he was gone. The door was shut and she was in the dark once more. Josie opened her mouth to yell, to tell theman to be strong, to saysomething…she wasn’t sure what. But once again, nothing came out. Only a faint growl.
Feeling as if she’d failed the man somehow, Josie curled into herself once more. She had no idea if he’d be back or not. She realized his being there had likely been her only chance to talk to another English-speaking human being before her death. To tell someone who she was, to be apersonone last time. And she’d blown it.
Sorrow swamped her, and Josie tried to tamp it down but it was no use. Emotions sucked. Being numb made this hell easier to handle. Lifting her head, she stared at the place where the man had lain in his cell. Could see a dark spot on the floor where his blood had dripped.
Be strong, she thought.Don’t let them win.
Then she closed her eyes and did her best to count water drops once more. Doing so was better than thinking about what the man might be going through.
CHAPTER TWO
Torture sucked.
That was Blink’s main thought as his captors used their fists to beat on him. Then they switched to sticks, hitting the bottom of his feet, making them bleed as they jeered and taunted.
His second-most prominent thought—that was awomanin the cell next to his. Not an animal. Not a fellow military prisoner. But a woman. At first, he’d thought it was a child. But as he stared at her, he’d realized she was an adult. She was malnourished, filthy, and as skinny as anyone he’d ever seen who was still alive.
Yet, her eyes told him she was alert. Hadn’t yet succumbed to whatever torture their captors had inflicted upon her. And that knowledge gave Blink the strength to withstand what they were dishing out at the moment.
