Page 21 of Descent
I ached to hold him, to offer whatever comfort I could, but there wasn’t time. Shelton ordered two of his men to take me out of the room. They pushed me around the busted door and stalled in the hallway.
Shelton pointed at Military Dude, who stood inside Will’s room. “Find our guests secure accommodations and get this shit fixed ASAP!”
Hands shoved me from behind, moving me down the narrow hall past the busted door of my cell. They ushered me outside, and a deluge poured on us. My toes sank into mud as we trudged through knee-high grass.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Shut up,” one of them muttered, pushing me forward.
I heard the dogs before I saw them.
Muscular bodies hit the chain-link fencing, and vicious barks ripped through the night. Five Rottweilers, showing off angry teeth, imparting deep growls.
Shelton climbed a staircase that led to a platform at the top of the kennel, and the men herding me up the stairs after him halted, fear tainting their mannerisms. “What’s going on, boss?” one of them asked, shooting an anxious glance at his buddy.
“Which one of you bozos dropped the ball?”
Both men took a step away from the opening in the platform. The dogs jumped and snarled from eight feet below. “We checked on him before taking a smoke break. He wasn’t makin’ a sound in that room.”
“That must have been some break. Did you go to fucking Egypt?” Shelton crossed his arms. “If I hadn’t shown up when I did, he might have gotten one up on us. Fucking idiots!”
“Sorry, boss. Won’t happen again.”
“Damn right, it won’t.”
The next few seconds slithered by in slow motion. Heartbeat thrashing in my ears, I watched in horror as Shelton grabbed the shorter of the two men and shoved him into the pit.
The guy’s screams would stay with me for the rest of my life, those terror-filled shrieks increasing as the sound of ripped flesh and tendon sliced through the night. I buckled over, spewing vomit onto the planks of wood underneath my muddy feet. A lesser man would have pissed himself too.
Shelton closed the short distance between us and wrenched me up by the hair. “I’m not in the business of hurting kids,” he said, “but if you fuck up again—if you sneeze too loud—I will feed your brat to the dogs. Are we clear, or do I need to show you another demonstration?”
Shelton’s remaining goon backed up, face going as pale as snow.
I shook my head, and despite shaking knees, straightened my spine and met the determination in Shelton’s cold eyes head-on. “We’re clear.”
He studied me for several long moments, his shrewd gaze a constant threat. Finally, he gave an imperceptible nod before pivoting on his heel, hand waving in the direction from where we’d come as he made his way down the stairs. “Put him back where he belongs,” he barked at his guy, “and make sure he stays there this time.”
11. Save Yourself
Alex
Zach slept like the dead, one arm slung over my stomach, secure in the knowledge that the shackle around my ankle would keep me at his side. The most I’d done was doze in fitful stages, awaking every hour, witnessing the night pass in slow agony as I confronted the numbers on the digital clock through bleary eyes.
He stretched beside me, and I felt the blanket of his gaze weighing me down. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“I really have to pee.” I lifted my ankle. “Can you unlock me?”
He wore the fucking key around his neck, just like Rafe. As he bent to free my foot, I averted my eyes. Watching Zach steal my husband’s role—using his key, taking over our house, sleeping in our bed—ignited an intolerable ache in my chest because Zach’s presence in this space tainted the memory of my wedding night.
Another piece of me fizzled out as I hurried into the bathroom, urgent to relieve my pissed-off bladder. By the time I finished my morning business, Zach had pulled on a pair of jeans. He sat at the end of the bed, still wearing the key around his neck.
I halted just out of his reach. “Is it okay if I cook us breakfast?”
The smile that flit across his lips was so…unguarded and earnest. He was desperate to latch onto the tiniest of hope that I’d forgive and forget. He was fucking insane, but I’d use it to my advantage.
“I’d love for you to cook. I miss your eggs.”
I bit back a snort. Did he not remember that I despised eggs? I could cook them, but they’d turn out barely edible. He gestured for me to exit the bedroom first, and when we reached the kitchen, adrenaline sizzled in my veins.
“It’ll only take me a few minutes to make breakfast.” I halted next to the eat-in nook, hoping he’d take the hint and sit. “Is scrambled okay?”
