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They were her safe place . . . had they been torn away from her?
Someone is coming for you. Just stay alive.
Suddenly, just as she thought she might pass out again, the car came to a stop and the boot opened.
A man loomed over her. He was huge with dark hair. His skin was pockmarked and he had a scar on his left cheek.
He was utterly terrifying.
“Still paralyzed? Good. I don’t need any fucking nonsense.”
Good to know.
He lifted her, but this time, she was held bridal style. She could hear things around her. People talking. But she couldn’t turn her head to see what was going on.
Where was she?
She was set down on top of several cushions on the ground. In a . . . tent? The walls were white and a large wooden pole with a chain and cuffs attached to it lay in front of her.
Cuffs that the man secured around her wrists.
Just bloody great.
A sob escaped.
“Don’t make too much fuss, girl, and you might get out of this.” The words and tone weren’t unkind. But she was terrified all the same. Because she really didn’t think she was getting out of this.
“Yes, yes, I have her. She’s at the camp with us.” That same woman walked in, talking into a phone. “Yes, sir. We have photos of her with them both. Yes, we have a reporter ready with a story about how they are using her . . . how they are influencing her. Much older than her. Yeah, they’re British, but they’ve lived here a while. Uh . . . right. Yes.”
She ended the call.
What was that all about? What photos? Who was she talking about?
Her feet started tingling and she let out a low moan of pain. It was like having a massive case of pins and needles.
All over her body.
“Can you shut her up?” the woman asked.
The man sighed, then put a piece of cloth between her teeth and tied it behind her head.
“Was that him?” the man asked.
“Yes,” she replied.
Oh frogbutts. This hurt. So bloody much. She tried to move, to help the pain, but she was still partially paralyzed. She took in a shuddering breath.
“Is he happy you got her?” he asked.
“He would have preferred we grab someone more interesting. Pippa or Alina would have been better. Two women corrupted by the ruling men of this country. The headlines would have been better than a washed-up, pathetic athlete. But he understands that it was far easier to get to her. And we’ve been following her long enough and gathering enough information that it should make the front pages.”
What were they talking about?
Who had she been talking to?
Obviously she was the washed-up athlete. And they had photos of her? Doing what?
Her head was spinning and her entire body was drained.
