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“Okay, so what does that mean?”
“It means exactly what you said. We’re here because she’s not. They probably want to trade us for her.”
“Your Family, they’ll probably do that, right? To get their soldier back?”
I narrow my eyes on him. “Just how much did Atlas tell you?”
He smirks, a soft laugh spilling from his lips.
“My Family, they might be a lot of things, but that word is at their heart. We are a family, and whatever they’re planning right now, Evie, Blake, and you, will be a part of that.
“They’re not going to storm in here, take me, and leave you all to your fate. It’s just not going to happen.”
“You promise?”
“They’re also not going to trade us for her,” I add. “They’ll figure out a way to protect us all. I promise.”
He nods, accepting my words as gospel.
Now all I have to do is wait and see if I’m right.
I fucking pray I am, because the last thing I want is to hurt him more than he already has been.
We finish eating our delightful meal before coldness and silence is the only thing surrounding us once more.
“What day do you think it is?” Zay asks.
“I’ve no idea,” I mutter, my exhaustion getting the better of me again, those few mouthfuls of bread having very little impact on my energy levels.
“You need to rest,” Zay says, watching me closely as I crash.
“Yeah,” I say, slumping down the wall until I’m curled up on my side. Pain shoots around every inch of my body, but it’s not enough to stop the darkness from creeping in. And when it does, she’s there, waiting for me like an angel in white silk.
Fucking heaven.
* * *
I’m so lost in images of Evie dancing for me up in her cage that it takes longer than it should to register that I’m moving.
“No, leave him alone. Put him down,” Zay screams, breaking through the fog of sleep.
I rip my eyes open just in time to see two guys grab him.
“NO,” I roar, but my voice is quickly cut off when someone wraps a rag around my head, tying it tightly and stopping me from saying anything.
Zay continues to scream and shout until they’ve no choice but to do the same to him. It doesn’t stop him from trying to fight them off, though. I’ve no idea if it’s because he’s small, but he manages to free his arms and legs more often than the men holding him would like and he kicks and punches, achieving more than a few grunts of pain.
Give them hell, little buddy.
I, however, don’t waste my energy on fighting. There’s no point. Even if I were to break free, there’s enough of them to overpower me.
Instead, I hang like a dead weight as they carry me wherever it is they’re taking me.
There will be a better opportunity than this, I have to believe that, and I have to just wait for it.
It will come. It has to.
I refuse to just sit here like waiting ducks to be rescued. There has to be something I can do to save us.
