Page 65 of Fighting for Valor
Parr’s whole face softens, and he trudges over to his phone and picks it up. “You want to say anything to Richards before the end? I can record a message for you. Nothing about us. If you try, I’ll have to hurt you. But if you want to say anything personal?”
“Please…?” Keeping my gaze locked on the phone, I watch as he enters his passcode.
Eight-seven-two-one-three-seven-nine.
Eight-seven-two-one-three-seven-nine.
Eight-seven-two-one-three-seven-nine.
I say the numbers over and over to myself as many times as I can before Parr launches the video app and nods at me.
“Rip? I should have told you from the beginning. Who I was. You made me feel so safe. Normal. And I ruined it all. I think I could have loved you. I wanted the chance to try. You’re not broken. You’re perfect. I’m so sorry.”
My sobs make any other words I might want to say impossible, and Parr stops the video, then shifts the music to the meditation track I asked for. After he returns the phone to the table, he stares down at his feet. “It’ll be quick. I’ll do it myself. That’s all I can give you.”
The door slams a moment later, and I’m alone.
Eight-seven-two-one-three-seven-nine.
I did it. I remembered. Relaxing my fingers, I look up at the pendant clutched in my hands. “Please,” I whisper as I start trying to unwind the metal wrapped around the stone. “Please let me live.”
By the time I have the wire broken into two distinct pieces, my entire body’s shaking and the sun’s mostly down. The single bare bulb in the room doesn’t help chase away the shadows from the pipe that falls over the handcuff locks, and I have to contort my entire body to be able to see what I’m doing. Not to mention manipulate the two pieces of wire with my wrists bound.
More than once, I give in to despair. This was a stupid idea, and if they catch me, my death won’t be the quick, painless one Parr promised me. But then I think about Ripper. How he looked when he admitted what had happened to him. When we made love. When he left to take Charlie for a walk.
Relieved. Accepted. Happy.
I want to see him again. See all those emotions and more. And now that he’s learned who I am, I want him to know the real me.
Wedging the first piece of wire into the lock, I hold my breath. Moment of truth. The second piece slides in next to it, and I whimper through a painful hand cramp, but manage to keep the makeshift lockpicks in place until it passes. Slowly, I maneuver them back and forth, hoping the constant tingling running up and down my fingers doesn’t hamper my ability to feel the tiny tumblers move.
Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. And then…there’s a click, and my right hand is free.
The pain of my arms falling to my sides after so long stretched over my head almost makes me cry out, but I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood. After I shove the two pieces of wire into the cup of my bra, I go to work on the rope around my ankles. I don’t know how much longer I have before one of them comes to check on me, hurt me, or kill me. It’s dark outside, so it has to be after nine.
Crawling over to Parr’s phone, not confident my legs will support me yet, I enter his unlock code. Now what? I can’t call the police. Who are they going to believe? A fugitive? Or two government agents? And I don’t know Ripper’s number. It’s in my phone.
Parr’s texting app is the only thing I recognize besides the app he downloaded for me, and I launch it.
There are dozens of messages. Mostly to Jessup. Oh, crap.
Parr: I’m tracking her phone. She’s at an apartment off of Latona.
Jessup: Send me the address. I have a sniper on standby.
Then, half an hour later.
Jessup: Got her. Some fucking dog almost took my arm off. She’s still alive. Headed to the rendezvous point. She means something to Richards. We can use her to get our money, then kill her.
I take a bunch of screenshots, find Parr’s email app, and send them all to myself. If I don’t get out of here alive, though, they won’t help me.
Think, Cara!
It’s too hard. My head aches, the throbbing getting worse every time I try to move. My heartbeat, so high for so long, starts skipping. Shit, shit, shit.
Using the wall for support, I stagger to my feet. There has to be a way out of this huge room besides the door Jessup and Parr keep using. Heading in the opposite direction, I stumble more than once, almost losing my grip on the phone.
My eyes don’t want to focus for more than a second or two. The world around me pulses and shifts every time my heart goes into arrhythmia. The only other time this happened, I passed out and woke up in the hospital four hours later. If I lose consciousness here, I’m dead.
