CHAPTER THREE
Pain exploded in her cheek, layered on top of the other cuts and bruises. Her teeth closed down on the side of her tongue and a metallic taste filled her mouth. She blinked back the tears.Don’t give them the satisfaction.She’d learned that lesson early on. Her tears only fueled their anger.
Her vision cleared enough to bring the brown adobe walls back into focus. Her captor’s sandal-clad feet shuffled on the hard-packed dirt floor.
“Look at the camera! Say the words!” The man’s fetid breath washed over her face and she swallowed back the bile that tried to work its way up her throat. His accent was harsh and angry.
She shook her head. She wouldn’t say lies that would put other people in jeopardy. Even if it meant the beatings stopped.
Her interrogator hit her open-handed, but with enough force to topple her out of her chair. A whimper escaped. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d landed on her dislocated shoulder. The left side of her face throbbed in time to her heartbeat. Was it too much to ask for a southpaw to give her face a break? Good to know the beatings hadn’t affected the sarcastic part of her brain.
Someone behind her yanked up the rickety chair she was tied to and her head lolled forward.
“Hold the chair,” the man in front of her said. A hand grabbed the crown of her head and tipped it back. He stared down at her, his obsidian black eyes lit with fury. “You will make the video, whore. One way or the other.”
This time he used his fist and her world went black.
Her body jerked. God, she hurt. A single, bright sliver of light unerringly found her one good eye.
Groaning, she tried to turn her head away from the sting of the rough cloth on her battered face. Gentle hands stopped her, accompanied by a soft shushing sound
“Rester, dogomuso.”
Be still, little sister?Only Anuli called her little sister.
Emme peered at the speaker. “Anuli.” Her voice cracked on the last syllable. It was the first time she’d seen anyone other than her captors. “They took you?” Stupid question. Of course they took her, if she was here. She tried to push up from the dirt floor and another groan escaped.
“No, no, Miss Emme. Lie down. Try not to move.”
Her arms gave out, giving her no choice in the matter. “Is there water?”
Anuli shuffled a few steps to the side of the room and returned with a small cup. She slid her hand under Emme’s head and raised it enough to allow her to take a sip.
Gagging at the first taste, she choked down the warm, dusty water. Anuli lowered her head and replaced the cup.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
Anuli kneeled next to her. “I’m not sure. They brought you in last night. I was very worried when you didn’t wake up.”
Christ she hurt. She tried to separate out the worst injuries from the general pain. No doubt her right shoulder was dislocated. She drew in a deep breath and — judging by the pain — a cracked rib or two. Her cheek throbbed — whether from the repeated hits or a fractured cheekbone, she wasn’t sure.
Anuli touched the cloth to her face again. She flinched, sending spears of pain down her side.
“Why they beat you so bad, Miss Emme?”
“They want me to make a video. Say the clinic is performing abortions and is a cover for the American government.”
“These are bad men, Miss Emme.” She shuffled out of sight. When she returned, she carried the cup and a small piece of bread. She dipped the bread into the water to soften it and held it to Emme’s mouth. “Eat.”
“Help me sit up, please.”
“You should rest.”
“I can’t eat laying down.”
Anuli tsk’d, but helped her sit and prop herself against the rough mud brick wall. She bit back a groan, concentrating on taking shallow breaths.
She scanned the small room — no more than eight feet square. A metal bucket sat on a rickety looking table. Another bucket sat in the far corner. Thankfully, nature wasn’t calling at the moment. A narrow window near the ceiling revealed only blue sky. She’d take a better look when she didn’t feel like passing out just from sitting against the wall.
