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There was no way out of this room, of this cell. Of that, I was certain. I’d have to wait until someone came to check on us, and hope that I could out muscle them. At this point, that was our best chance.
I gripped Emma to me as we lay on that tiny cot. I listened to her breathing, trying to decipher if she was awake or sleeping. If she was sleeping, I’d let her get her rest, but once she woke, I had questions I needed to ask her.
I reflected on the words the man in charge had said, that Emma hadn’t given up any information. I wondered what they knew, what information they were trying to get from her. How they had known she was with me.
Emma shifted, mumbling incoherently, and began to whimper in her sleep. I gently shook her, but she didn’t wake. Her breathing was fast and uneven. I roused her a little more roughly until her eyes finally snapped open and she shot up frantically, pushing herself away from me.
“It’s me, it’s me.” I grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her eyes to meet mine. Finally, recognition swept over them, and her shoulders slumped.
Suddenly, I heard an explosion. Emma looked afraid, but I listened a moment longer, and then I let myself smile.
Emma looked at me, confused. “We’re getting out of here.” I breathed.
* * *
We rode silentlyin a jeep with a man I didn’t know, but who had cleared the pathway out of the prison in blood. I recognized the insignia on his uniform and knew he was with my friend, Arash. He deposited us in the parking lot I’d borrowed Arash’s car from earlier. I walked with Emma’s hand in mine as we waited at the gate to be buzzed into the alley, and then finally we stood in front of the door where I’d last seen Arash.
The door opened, and my friend looked from Emma to me with a grim look in his eyes as he waved us inside the dark building.
Arash agreed to drive us to the apartment, where I could scope out the building to see if I could retrieve any of our things, our passports, our ticket out of here. I had asked Emma to stay with him while I went to retrieve our things, but she’d refused. She refused to let go of me, let alone let me out of her sight. And I didn’t blame her for it. After pleading with her, she’d agreed to stay in the car with Arash near the apartment while I gathered our things, but that was as far as she was willing to let me out of her sight.
I slipped back into the building and quickly threw our things together. I couldn’t tell what was missing yet. I’d just have to grab everything in sight and take inventory later.
I kindly thanked my friend Arash, as he dropped us off at an apartment in the next city over. “No one will bother you here, at least not for a few days.” He assured me.
I pushed the door to the room open, and waited for Emma to go inside, before closing the door and firmly locking it behind us. She stood quietly with my giant shirt draped over her and waited for me to speak first.
I motioned to the bed. “I’m sorry, it’s one bed again.” I dragged a hand through my hair and realized how dirty it was. Caked in blood, dust, and sweat, most likely.
Her eyes flicked up to mine. “I’m not.” She said it plainly. No desire, no spite, just content with the sleeping arrangement.
“We’ll take an inventory of what was taken, and then we’ll figure out how quickly we can get home.” I assured her.
She nodded and sat on the edge of the bed.
I rubbed my neck. “You want to shower first?”
“Sure.” She nodded and disappeared into the bathroom.
When the door closed, I blew out a breath and sat on the edge of the bed. I needed to talk to her, to check on her, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know the right words to use.
After what I’d been forced to do to her, I didn’t know how to exist around her. She felt so breakable, like rare porcelain that was ready to shatter.
While she showered, I quickly went through the bags and did a once over inventory. All my guns were missing, the passports seemed to be gone, and various other odds and ends had been looted. I groaned as I squatted in front of the bags on the ground.
“What is it?” Emma asked.
Without turning around, I responded, “Our passports, and my guns are missing. Not good.”
“Oh.”
I finally stood up and turned around. Emma stood barefoot, her hair wet, the blood washed from her face, wrapped in a small towel. My gaze dropped to her chest, where her breasts heaved against that tiny towel, where the top of that cut started and then disappeared between her breasts. I felt anger flash through me for a moment. She just stood there, letting me look. I shifted as I looked at her, and she looked at me. Suddenly, it dawned on me that I was blocking her path to her clothes, and I awkwardly motioned to the bags while sidestepping out of the way.
I moved towards the bathroom, and as I closed the door, I saw Emma looking at me over her shoulder with a look I couldn’t decipher.
I stood under the hot stream of water, watching the rust brown water pool around my feet and wash down the drain. I was grateful for this shower, grateful Arash had a place we could stay for a few days while we got back on our feet. There had been many days when I’d had to eat and sleep caked in dirt and mud and other people’s blood. It was not something I looked forward to. It was a simple luxury to be able to shower like this.
I turned off the water and wrapped myself in a towel, eyeing the gash on my forearm, eyeing the stab on my side. I considered Emma’s gash and realized we’d both need to do a little first aid tonight.
