Men.
Speaking Farsi.
I don’t understand every word, but I don’t need to.
Nobody sounds rushed.
Nobody sounds worried.
Which means they think they already won.
My jaw tightens instantly.
Not happening.
I shift carefully against the wall and test the rope binding my wrists.
Too tight.
No give at all.
The movement pulls sharply at my ribs and I hiss quietly through my teeth.
Okay.
Still alive.
Still conscious.
That’s enough for now.
I glance down at the bandage wrapped around my side.
Blood stains through the edges again.
Not catastrophic yet.
But not good either.
I rest my head briefly against the cold wall behind me and close my eyes for half a second.
“Stay alive,” I whisper to myself.
Because that’s the only thing that matters right now.
Stay alive long enough for—
Russ.
The thought comes instantly.
Certain.
He’s coming.
I know he is.
The realization settles strangely calm inside my chest.
