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She wraps his arms around her waist. “Ready.”
He pushes off, and they start to move and pick up speed. Savannah’s laugh echoes off the mountains, making him laugh. At the bottom, she jumps up and offers him a hand. He takes it, pulling her back down on his lap.
Something runs across her face, and a tiny smile appears. “I didn’t think it was possible.”
“What?” he asks, confused.
“Possible to love you even more than I do right now.”
“Move!” someone shouts, making Cole jump. Savannah seems unfazed by the man yelling. Her lips are moving, but he can’t hear her.
“Savannah?” he asks, nearly panicked. “What’s going on?”
“Up!” the voice says again.
One minute he’s with her, the next he’s back in his room…
Men are shouting outside his door. He wipes the bead of sweat from his neck. A dream, a memory, a fantasy, whatever you want to call it, it’s his and only his. They can’t take that from him.
A voice makes his skin crawl as he turns and rests his back on the wall. Wincing from the cold, he slips back into another memory.
Everything changes once the video is made.
He is dragged into the room where a camera is pointing at a Mexican flag on the wall. He is positioned on his knees while the guy with the longhorn belt buckle, the one they call Raul, orders one of the men to leave. Moments later, the man returns with a white guy in a Hawaiian print shirt and khakis. He drops him on the floor and nods at Raul. The guy looks either half-dead or drugged.
Cole is trying to catch up when he sees Raul reaching for a machete. He can feel the blood drain from his face and swallows hard. A man comes over and inspects his neck, then does the same to the guy on the floor.
“Same,” the man says to Raul.
“Good.”
Then it hits Cole that this is all being filmed, but why? He sees the red light go on, and they instruct Cole to stare into the camera. They turn on a bright light and aim it at him. Raul stands to his side and starts a speech. The camera travels down, and he sees the little red light go off. Someone grabs Cole and pulls him aside, shoving a pistol in his face. He watches in horror as they rip off the other man’s shirt and hold him up.
“Not a word,” the man warns, shaking the pistol at Cole.
The camera travels up Raul’s waist then moves over to the man’s neck, not showing any of his face. A moment later, his throat is sliced open. Blood flies everywhere, including on Cole’s arms and chest. The man turns and flops to the ground. The realization hits that this video is going to be seen by his family, but before he can even form another thought, he’s being dragged back into the closet and again handcuffed to the pipe.
He had heard The American come back, raging mad after learning Raul made the video and sent it off without his knowledge. Clearly, The American and Luka Donavan had nothing to do with the tape. In the days that followed, Cole had been driving himself crazy imagining all sorts of horrific scenarios of his family seeing what they thought was his beheading. He feels sick thinking of Savannah and her reaction to such a thing, let alone his parents.
Jerking awake after another terrible nightmare, Cole desperately runs his hands along the pipe to the ground and picks up the jug of water they threw at him the night before. He has been carefully sipping it, making sure he doesn’t get sick by drinking it too fast. He winces as he moves, feeling the large, open gash on his stomach. He knows it’s probably getting infected in his filthy living conditions. Thankfully, they have been taking him outside to relieve himself. One time they didn’t secure the blindfold properly, and Cole got a good look at his surroundings. He’s been out enough times now to know what direction to head when he finally makes his move.
The door opens, and The American steps inside the room, turning on the overhead light. He chucks a protein bar at Cole, and as he fumbles with numb fingers to pick it up, he sees it’s one from the vest he was wearing the night they raided the house. Cole’s stomach sinks as he realizes they went through his gear.
“So,” The American says, smiling. “I’m gathering it just clicked for you that we found this,” he holds up the picture, “tucked in the lining of your vest. Isn’t there some rule that you’re not supposed to carry anything that can lead us to your loved ones?” Cole’s jaw tightens as he glances at the picture of Savannah. “So, Luka was right.” He nods. “You’re in love with the girl too.” He smirks, glancing at the photo as his thumb brushes over her face. “What an interesting turn of events.” He checks his watch then stands, studying Cole for a moment, then turns off the light and leaves.
Fuck me.
“Up!” a man yells at Cole, thinking he’s asleep. In fact, he was listening to the background sounds to see if other men are around. All is quiet.
Perfect.
The man kicks him in the leg. “I said up!” Cole’s eyes slowly open.
The guy leans over and fumbles with the key to unlock the cuffs. His eyes are dilated, and he looks strung out on something. Cole waits patiently while the man releases him. He needs to see if anyone is in the house. The man is so out of it he forgets to blindfold him, and Cole watches where he puts the cuff key after he links his other wrist. “Out.” The man nudges him between his shoulder blades with his rifle.
He keeps his head down but notices two guys just as high nearly passed out on the couch, along with a tray lined with cocaine in front of them. One man looks over at them and grunts something about how it isn’t the time to let thegringoout yet, but the man just urges Cole to keep moving. Cole peeks at the time on the wall and learns it’s just past midnight. Lots of darkness left to use to his advantage.
“Tree.” The guy points to the nearest tree. “Hurry.”
