“Probably not, all I know is that I won’t let him touch you again. I made the deal. I saw how she looked at me.” I can’t help but snort at his comment, but he is right. She wants him. Compared to her husband, Isaac is a tall glass of water in the hottest desert. He has this sexy and dangerous allure to him, from the scar right above his lip to the nose ring on his perfect nose, to those beautiful, almond hazel eyes. Even in this situation, the thought of him being inside me makes my body tingle. What the fuck is wrong with me? The thought conjures up shame.The butterflies I keep confined in my stomach convulse and thrash inside their cage even as the guilt begins to consume me. “Do you think they’ve started to look for us?” I whisper, watching as he leans toward me. The chains pull tightly.
“They are. But more importantly, Max is. I know I would.” Even in the darkness, I can feel his eyes on me. Like they always are. “Get some rest, Ronnie.”
Curling into a fetal position, I force my eyes shut to only open them again the moment I picture Harry. “Isaac, I…” My voice trails off, the bitter taste of fear making my throat dry. Isaac only shushes me gently, his gaze never wavering from mine. “No more talking.” His voice, softer than a whisper, holds a firm command. “You need to rest, Ronnie.” My heart pounds against my ribcage. He moves his hand to reach mine, but the chains clank discouragingly, reminding us of our horrific situation. That doesn’t stop him from trying. He continues until he makes himself bleed. One thing I have learned about Isaac over the years is that he is stubborn.Tenacious. He won’t let the chains stop him from trying to comfort me, from reaching out to me. Even if he had to rip out his heart time and time again, he would do it for me. He would protect me with all he’s got. What he doesn’t understand is that I will do the same. For a long time, I hated our parents for taking him from me. For falling in love and making our love impossible to be. Then I think of him and understand why.
“Ronnie… Mami… I… Wish…” His voice trails off as he grimaces, the strain of the chains beginning to take its toll. His eyes bore into mine, shimmering in the dim light filtering through the small window. I can see his pain etched in his every feature, and my heart feels like it’s being torn apart over and over again. Whatever he wishes for, I can hear the pain in his voice, the regret and longing.
“It’s alright, Isaac.” His eyes soften at my words, the anguish lessening just a bit. “We’re together, still. That’s all that matters.” He lets out a low sigh, his entire body trembling with the exertion. “Isaac, stop!” I plead. The fear that has been gnawing at the edge of my conscience now takes center stage.
“I can’t…” he whispers before he slumps against the cement wall behind him. His chest moves up and down in a rhythm that is too fast, too shallow. “I’m sorry. Ijust… I can’t stand being so useless,” he spits out, the words full of self-loathing. I curl myself into a ball. Unable to console him. I can’t bear this, so I don’t respond. There’s nothing that can soothe us, that can change our situation. All I do is remain silent, just like I did that night when our parents walked hand in hand, kissing one another and announcing their relationship. All I want is for sleep to come, to provide a brief respite from the reality of our predicament, yet it eludes me. I toss and turn. Trying to find a comfortable pose. The hours pass tortuously slow, punctuated by the clicking sound of our chains and Isaac’s occasional soft grunts of pain. Every sound is a piercing stab in my already fractured heart.
Opening my eyes, I watch as Isaac’s gaze wanders to the small, barred window, his eyes reflecting the cool moonlight that seeps through. He doesn’t notice me staring, and I like that. A smile curls on my lips. I can still see the boy he used to be, caught in his eyes, full of life and laughter. We’d been inseparable then, always exploring, always discovering. Why is our fate so cruel? Tears well up in my eyes, spilling onto the cold concrete beneath me. The past is a cruel thing, mocking us with happy memories that feel like distant dreams.
“Remember when we used to play pirates by the creek?” Isaac’s voice weaves through the stifling air, startling me out of my thoughts. I turn to look at him, of course, he would notice I’m awake. There’s a hint of melancholy and knowing on the smile playing on his lips. “We’d sail around in that patched-up dinghy, living out adventures on the high seas.” I can’t help but laugh, a soft, choked sound joining him in the memory. “You were always the captain. I was just your measly cabin boy,” I say, allowing the rush of warmth the past invokes. He laughs too, a short, painful snort that ends in a wince and a cough.
“You were always the best cabin boy, never wanting to be seen as a girl. Ronnie… I…” His voice trails off, and he hits his fist against the wall in frustration. He doesn’t have to say it. I understand his message, that is the beauty of us. Two souls so intertwined we never needed words to convey our feelings. There’s no denying,we belong with one another. This situation has only made it clearer than ever. If we make it out of here, things will forever be different. There is no going back to who we used to be, not now, not ever.
The realization is brutal, tearing through me with a savage intensity matched only by the cold hooks of our chains. In silence, we sit there, our breaths synchronizing in rhythm before he softly whispers, “I love you.”
1. Damn it
Chapter Nineteen
Isaac
Ijolt out of sleep, the cold concrete cooling my skin, my body dripping with sweat. Over and over, I replay the image of Harry defiling Veronica. Not even in my dreams can I escape it. For a moment, I lay there, counting my breaths, trying to push away the thought. Before I shift to face Ronnie, I watch as she sleeps. The only thing that brings me peace is watching over her. I try to trick my mind, thinking that I can keep her safe. Making me feel useful, as if I could protect her. All it does is show that I can't. It’s been a couple of days since we’ve been here, like every night since it happened. I watch helplessly as she fights with the demons inside her head. The ones I can’t defeat. I’ve never felt so helpless. The guilt is heavy on my heart. The worst part is having this much rage inside me, only for it to be restrained. This pain will always be a reminder of how much I failed her. I cling to the sound of soft sniffles and whimpers as she cries herself to sleep. It hurt my soul to see her this silent… This broken. All I want to do is restore whatever part of her that’s missing, give her all the pieces of me until she’s whole again.
The constant throb in my leg grows harder and harder to ignore. My body aches. Small shivers of cold run through my system. Making me shiver each time, it feels like I’m coming down with something. Or my body is struggling to heal from the gunshot wound. I make sure not to wake her. As I work quietly, unwrapping the soiled bandage. Grimacing at the sight, the sliced part of my jeans is embedded into the wound that’s quickly festering. By the looks of it, it’s beginning to get infected. The wound is hot, and I can smell the sickly sweet,putrid scent building in it, and as much as I want to act like this isn’t a problem,I can’t.
It’s abigone if I don’t take care of it.
An infection can kill me easily under these conditions. Leaving her here with them is not an option. Dying is not a fucking option. I need antibiotics and wound care,ASAP. There’s no way I can be any more useless than I already am. My heart sinks into my stomach, and I suck in a deep breath, exhaling through my nose. Repeating the sequence while I keep my eyes on Ronnie. She’s slowly breaking, I can see it, no matter how hard she tries to hide it. My precious butterfly won’t be able to keep this up, not this way. My sunflower is barely hanging on, and I'm helplessly watching as she slowly loses her petals. I sit up, resting my back against the cold wall, before stretching out my leg to ease some of the pain, but nothing seems to work. What afuckingnightmare. I know I can’t just sit here and watch her waste away in front of me. This can’t be how our story ends, howhersends. I refuse to let this be the place where her story ends. Closing my eyes, I let the tears I’ve kept inside fall because I refuse to let her see me break, not right now.
I have to be her escape. I need to be her anchor, but I’m falling apart too.
I bite down on my lip until the tang of blood seeps into my mouth.
With a pained grunt, I push myself up from the cold floor, disregarding the sharp pain shooting up my infected leg. Ronnie stirs in her sleep, a whimper escaping her lips. I gnash my teeth, forcing my body to move, but the chain keeps me in place forcing me to full stop. All I can do is watch helplessly as she begins to toss
“No… please… no,”she says, her voice broken.
I tug more desperately, as if the chain will magically give in. Nothing gives. The sound of her pleas is like ice picks into my heart, each whimper driving the blade deeper. My chest tightens just as my body begins to shake. I can’t bear to see her like this, trapped in a cycle of agony both awake and asleep. I’d rather it be me, ten times over, and not her… never her. I don’t notice how hard I’m tugging until the chain begins to bite at my ankle and wrist. The previous marks reopen, the blood dripping down, and still, I continue to tug. If only I could get this fucking chain free, I could get us out. All I need is to get my hands on him. One false move and I can fuck him up. He’s smart enough to keep his distance and use Ronnie as a means to control me. He’s a coward who hides behind a woman and a gun.
“No… please… no,” Ronnie whimpers again. I can’t stand it any longer, tears streaming down my face as I tug harder on the chain, my infected leg screaming in protest. My knees wobble when I try to stand, and if only I could crawl to her. Console her…. she needs me. Ronnie cries grow more frantic, her body writhing in terror. My teeth clench tightly together as I push myself to stand, putting my weight down on my infected leg and pulling. I pull over and over until my leg gives in, blood spilling down my leg. I collapse onto my knees, and for the first time, I pray. A sinner. A non-believer trying to find mercy. Praying for a miracle to a God who never listens. The sound of small footsteps, the opening of the basement door, and a desperate woman are the answer to my prayers. I drag a shaky hand down my face, trying to wipe away any hint of emotion that might give me away. It doesn’t take long for her to appear behind a glow of orange. Priscilla places her index finger over her lips, motioning for me to be quiet as she closes the door behind her. I nod, watching her as she takes a cautious step closer to me, showing me the white first aid kit in her hand and the bottle of what looks like antibiotics.
“You look like you’re in pain,” she whispers. “I think it’s infected.”
I scoff. “No shit. I think that’s what happens when you’re bound in a basement and have a bullet wound in your leg.”
She grimaces and takes extra steps, closing the distance between us. “Let me help you.”
Hesitation has me frozen in place. It takes me a moment before allowing her to help. Realising how stupid it would be not allow her to. I clearly need it. Plus, I can use this time to learn about her and make her think I’m on her side. “You can help by letting us go.”
“You know… I can’t.”
“Yeah, you can,” I mutter as I motion for her to proceed. “I really can’t….” She gives me a sad smile before kneeling before me. A curtain of chestnut waves falls down her face as her hands gently begin to work, first by undressing the dirty bandage, and then ripping my jeans further up. “I'm sorry….” She trails off, looking at Ronnie tossing and turning.
“You say sorry a lot for someone who's responsible for everything that is happening.” Priscilla huffs out a breath, using the back of her hand to push back the flyaways that fall over her eyes. “I’m not evil, you know. Sometimes, for the greater you just have to do terrible things. You have no idea.”
