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Turning her head, she glared over her shoulder at him. She wanted to tell him off and point out the fact that she’d been forced to lay in a puddle of her own blood, sweat, and urine for days. Gritting her teeth, Taylor started to get ready to speak but a small quiver in her abdomen kept the words at bay. She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to smile. It was such a small thing, but so miraculous to feel her child stir inside her. It had been happening for a while now. At first she’d thought it was just hunger or tiny rumbles of gas moving through her stomach, but as the days passed and the sensation grew more frequent, she realized she was feeling the first tiny punches and kicks.
It was so bittersweet. She wanted to rejoice and share the news with Sebastian. She wanted to see the joy and excitement cross his face and feel his hands roam over her in an attempt to feel it too—but she couldn’t. He was nowhere around, and a huge part of her had died when Marx told her how much he was hurting and how by all accounts, he’d been wracked with grief and almost inconsolable the day he thought he’d put her in the ground.
She was dead, buried, and the man she loved was beside himself with pain…but their child was still very much alive. It was all she had to hold onto at the moment and the only thing that kept her going.
Grimacing, Josh wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, trying to put her in the metal tub. Steam wafted from the water and she reared back, kicking the moment the scalding water touched her skin. Her throat was too closed off and too dry to scream, but she tried to anyway, flailing with all her might. It took both of them to push her down and Bradley clobbering her before Josh managed to loop the chain through the metal chain welded to the bottom of the tub. He jerked his hand away and recoiled from the water with a hiss.
“Jesus H. Christ! That’s hot!” he exclaimed with bewildered eyes. “I thought we were supposed to clean her up, not cook her.”
“Shut up and do your damn job.”
Bradley reached for her and she recoiled, trying to elude the hands that had battered and violated her more times than she could count. Hands that had held her down while Marx had painstakingly branded a skull and crossbones ensign into her flesh one agonizing inch at a time. If she could have, she would’ve spit in his face for all the pain and suffering he had caused.
Her fighting to get away this time was enough. Grabbing her shoulders, he forced her onto her back and held her submerged. Water and air bubbles filtered up her nose. The position put an unbearable amount of strain on her shoulders and shredded wrists. Darkness swam before her eyes, its presence full of the menacing promise of death before he finally hauled her back up. She dropped forward, pulling her knees to her chest, coughing and gasping in violent heaves. Without warning, Bradley shoved her face forward and, again, held her down. This time, Taylor didn’t move, but he kept her pinned until her lungs started to burn and as badly as her skin.
He ripped her head up above the surface just as she started to slip away. She dropped against the side of the tub when he released her, her head smacking against the wall. Unable to sit up on her own, she hung there weakly while choking in as much air as she could.
“Fight me again. I dare you,” he growled.
“Jesus, Brad…”
“You know what? I’m finished putting up with her bullshit, Reevers. Come get me when you’re done.”
Silence hung over the room. Taylor didn’t try to speak, she just sat there, waiting for something to happen. Josh stared after his teammate for several seconds before turning his attention back to the tub with a frustrated shake of his head. Sighing, he reached for the faucet and turned the temperature down. It was still hot, but not nearly as unbearable. Her eyes drifted to his front pocket where she’d seen him drop the key before lifting back up to his face. Without a word, he grabbed the bottle of shampoo and squeezed a generous amount onto his hand. It didn’t have a label, but it spelled strongly of mint and rosemary.
She sat still, wincing on occasion when his fingers scrubbed over a knot or cut left by Marx and his men. He never offered an apology, but there were occasional flashes of regret in his eyes. When he caught her trying to lick the small drops of water off her shoulder despite the soap clinging to her, he rocked back on his heels with yet another shake of his head. Tension rippled through his wiry muscles as he grabbed a small cup and filled it. Taylor eyed him wearily when he lifted the rim to her lips, remembering all too well what had happened the last time Marx had given her a drink.
“Come on, sunshine. Drink up.”
She gulped it down greedily, thankful for the small concession he was showing. She wanted to cry when Josh pulled the cup away. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. Setting it aside, he offered no apologies. He just tipped her head back and started rinsing the soap from her hair.
“You have a nasty infection going on there,” he said, glancing at her wrists. He seemed to avoid looking at the festering burn between her pubic bone and navel at all costs.
Shrugging, Taylor looked away. There was a kindness in his actions so far, but he was still one of them and, after the way he’d turned his back on Sebastian, there was no way she could trust him. Her heart ached so much when she thought of him. So much that she couldn’t stop herself from asking the one thing she really needed to know.
“How is he?” Her voice came in a whispered croak, but it was the best she could manage.
Avoiding her eyes, Josh hesitated then grabbed the tattered rag draped over the side of the tub. “I don’t know, Taylor. I really don’t.”
“Why?”
The single word lingered heavily between them. He shot her a scathing look before he lathered some soap on a dingy sponge and started to wash her. He didn’t make it far before they both realized the dilemma. Leaning back, he scratched his neck, and looked to the doorway. Cursing, he pulled the plug, allowing some of the water to drain.
“You broke his heart,” she whispered.
His dark indi
go eyes locked with hers. “Yeah, well, so did you.”
The accusation hit her hard. It was far worse than the beatings and torture she’d suffered so far. She couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Sebastian. Ever. Forcing her attention to the wall, she choked back a miserable sob.
“Will you tell him?” she begged. “Just please tell him that I love him. Tell him I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put him through this…I didn’t mean…”
Words failed her. Her throat closed off and she sat in miserable silence as he continued scrubbing. When he got to her abdomen, his fingertips accidentally grazed her. She held her breath when he froze. His eyes darted to hers and a numbing fear swept through her when she realized that he knew.
“Jesus Christ…”
“Please…”
He rocked back, the sudden movement cutting her off as much as his curt question. “How far?”
“I don’t…”
“How far, Taylor?”
“I don’t know!” she exclaimed. “I don’t even know how long I’ve been here.”
“Almost three weeks. Now answer the damn question,” he growled.
The anger darkening his angular features was terrifying. It was a far cry from the Josh she’d come to know and love. Clamping her eyes shut, she scrambled to do the math, but it was too hard to think. “Five months?”
He threw the washcloth across the tub hard enough to make water and small drops of soap splatter through the air. She flinched, curling in on herself as best as she could in an effort to shield her belly.
“Don’t tell them. Please don’t tell them.”
“Shut. Up.”
He seemed beyond furious as he snatched up the cup. His entire body quaked with rage that matched the reddened fury contorting his face as he rinsed her as quickly as he could.
“Oh good. She’s finished.”
