“So, where is she then? Does the FBI know?”
“They’ve got a few likely locations they might have taken the family. Which is why we need to get moving. We’re meeting the lead agent back at a hotel in San Antonio to debrief and hopefully get those locations narrowed done ASAP.”
“Okay,” I nodded, swiping my hands roughly through my hair.
As I went through the motions of quickly getting dressed in clean clothes, I fervently prayed in my head that Shiloh was still alive and that we would get her soon.
Forty-Seven
August 22, Saturday
Emory
Soft sobs drifted through my subconscious, my head rolling away from the sounds on instinct. They echoed loudly in the space, making my head spin. My body was wracked by a violent shiver that ripped a guttural moan from my dry throat. I tried to swallow but I realized there was something in my mouth. Adrenaline surged in my body, and I finally opened my eyes, adjusting to the dimly light room.
Brick wall. A lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. A humid dampness in the air that made it hard to breathe through my nose and around whatever was shoved in mouth.
I looked for the source of the cries to find a body crumpled against the wall several feet away. I studied the shape of the woman, eyes scanning the blue nightgown that was torn and dirty, the messy brown hair that had once been in a braid but was now falling across her face.
Mother.
She shifted her ankles, revealing the chain attached to her foot, the other end bolted to the floor.
I finally moved my head, my heart leaping out of my chest at the sight of Adrian and Javier sitting cross-legged back-to-back in front of me. Adrian was watching the door, Javier studying me.
The urge to cry was there, but no tears came as I stared at what was once the most familiar face, more familiar than my own. Brown eyes. Thick black brows, angular jaw that was clean-shaven. Black hair that was gelled back, except for a small piece that hung down over his left eye.
I released a sharp breath through my nose.
“Hi, güerita.”
The name broke something in my chest and a soft whine left my throat.
Adrian turned his head, looking over his shoulder at me. “Good. You’re alive.”
Am I? Is this a hallucination?
I flicked my gaze back to Mother, but she was still curled into herself, either ignoring us all or…they weren’t really here.
His gaze flicked down to my hands, drifting over the exposed skin of my arms.
“Doesn’t look like you put up much of a fight, güera. I thought I taught you better than that.”
Indignation soared through my veins, but he tsked.
“Ahh, ahh, ahh. You promised you were going to fight like hell.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve given up already?” Adrian drawled lazily, pulling something from the pocket of his slacks— a piece of gum. He unwrapped it and shoved it into his mouth, chewing loudly before throwing the wrapper at Mother. It bounced off her head, but again, she ignored it.
This isn’t real, I decided.
“You gonna do something about that gag in your mouth or just let us talk your ear off? I know you’re dying to cuss me out right now,” Javi said with a smug smirk.
I drew in another breath through my nose trying to avoid gagging.
I looked down at myself, realizing I was lying on my side, a similar chain wrapped around my own ankle. The coldness from before wasn’t because the room was cold, rather that I was lying in a puddle of water—no, urine. I shifted my face against the concrete, using my tongue to push the rag out of my mouth. I gagged as the air got stuck in the back of my throat.
“Well, go on,” Javi said, fanning a hand out in front of us. “Cuss me out. I know you want to,” he goaded.
