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Rafe had betrayed her.
Used her, again and again.
A gut punch to her belly, she crumbled into a ball, heaving sobs racking her body.
Torrie was quick to move to her, the chains attached to her shackles clanking on the stones as she wrapped her arms around Victoria and drew her to her chest.
Eva’s hand went onto her back, rubbing up and down. “This isn’t your fault, Vicky. None of this is. None of us knew this was coming.”
“I did…I did…” Victoria blubbered out between sobs. “What he did…what he did…how could I let this happen…”
Torrie pressed her lips against Victoria’s brow. “Eva’s right, Vicky. You couldn’t have stopped this. You didn’t know.”
“No…you don’t understand…Rafe…he…he…how could I be so stupid? Again and again and again?”
Eva scooted closer, her hand going down along Victoria’s hip to try and calm her. “Who is Rafe? Is that the man that carried you in here? We’ve never seen him. He wasn’t dressed like the rest of the brutes.”
Victoria’s head lifted, her sobs easing. “Rafe carried me down here?”
“Yes, if Rafe is tall with light brown hair,” Torrie said. “He carried you in and set you down, then set the shackles on you. Did he hurt you?”
“He…he…he…” She didn’t know how to answer that.
What had he done? Betrayed her. Tortured her. Yes. All those things.
But the worst—he had crushed her. Crushed her heart. Her damn, foolish, trusting heart.
“What is this?” Eva’s hand patted on Victoria’s right leg.
Something hard. Hard on her thigh.
Victoria shook her head, her hands going down to her skirts and dragging them up her legs, fingers searching on her right thigh until she found what Eva had patted.
Metal.
Metal slid into place under the ribbon holding up her stocking high on her thigh.
She grasped at it, pulling it free.
Three things.
Two steel lever wires and a dagger.
She stared at the gleaming silver in the low light from the torch just outside the cell, her breath quickening.
Those hadn’t been there when they’d entered the castle.
Rafe had gotten them under her skirts, hidden away.
The bloody bastard.
The genius bastard.
He meant her to free herself. Free Eva and Torrie.
Torrie peered over her shoulder. “What is that?”
A smile spread across Victoria’s face. “To pick the locks.”
