I sink down onto the bed as soon as Zaman locks the door. I’m so hungry, my stomach is in knots. Faruk is reminding me that he owns me. That he controls whether I live or die. Whether I eat, have clothes, a bed, a door… Will he throw me down in that deep, dark hole next?
I suck down half a bottle of water, my gaze trained on the small bit of light seeping in from the hallway. Until the rest of the compound sleeps, I don’t trust Faruk or his men not to barge in, so I won’t risk a shower. Or closing my eyes even for a minute, despite how tired I am.
Carefully, I work the tiny needle free from the hem of my tunic. It’s not much thicker than a couple of strands of hair, but it’s enough to sting. To remind me I’m alive.
Only willing to expose a small bit of skin at my wrist, I drag the sharp point along my radial bone. The barest hint of blood wells, and a fraction of the tension seeps from my shoulders.
“You kept him alive,” I whisper. “If nothing else, you gave him one more day. Gave yourself one more day.” My eyes burn. One more day…for what? To huddle on the floor, terrified, while nightmares wake me every time I close my eyes, leaving me shaking, trembling with fear? To be manhandled and bruised as I’m dragged from this little prison to the makeshift lab? To be constantly threatened with the hole? With death?
The sight of Mateen’s sweet face as his pain eased this morning, his high-five as he left tonight…those moments brought me joy. But they were only two small sparks in the unending darkness surrounding me.
The bruises along my back and hips ache with every breath. I worry Faruk cracked one of my ribs when he kicked me, but I won’t take off my tunic to check. Because amazingly, he hasn’t found the ring under my clothes yet, and without that…I fear I’d lose myself completely.
Shadows move outside my door. Footsteps too quiet to hear. Quickly, I shove the needle under the pillow and rearrange my headscarf. I won’t let them see me broken. Rubbing the fresh scratch, I force my pounding heart to calm.
Tiny clicks and scrapes at the lock terrify me. This isn’t Zaman. It’s someone new. Backing into the far corner of the room, I flatten myself against the wall.
The man who flings open the door looks like all the others. Dressed in dark brown pants and tunic, a traditional hat largely covering his dark hair, he scans the dimly lit room. Recognition flickers in his green eyes, and he smoothes something over the locking mechanism before pulling the door almost shut behind him.
“Joey? Josephine Taylor? Come on. It’s time to get out of here.” His accent is decidedly American, and he holds out his hand to me. I have to be dreaming. No one would come for me. No one even knows I’m here.
“Joey? We don’t have a lot of time. You need to trust me.”
“Wh-who are y-you?” I take a single step forward, but when he does the same, I freeze, unable to will my limbs to move again.
“Trevor. I’m a friend.” He reaches into the pocket of his tunic and pulls out a small, plastic package. As he unfurls his fingers, I gasp. “He said these might convince you.”
Red Vines. A little mini-package of Red Vines. Only one person knows how much I used to love these.
“Ford? He’s here? How did you—?”
“We’ll explain later, Joey. Now, I need to get you out of here.” Tossing me the Red Vines, he arches a brow. “We have to be quick and quiet. Are you ready?”
I clasp his hand, and for the first time since they took me, I feel something other than fear—hope. “Yes.”
Trevor leads me down the hall, then stops at the bottom of the stairs. “I have the package,” he whispers. “Are you on your way to Foxtrot?” After a moment, he curses under his breath. “Get your ass in gear. We only have one shot at this and we’re not leaving a man behind.” A pause, and then he shakes his head. “I know what he said, but I’m not letting that sadist have him just because you ran into ‘complications.’”
Foxtrot? Is he talking about Ford? My free hand touches the ring through my tunic. I don’t know how he found me, but…I want so very much to see him again.
Trevor starts up the stairs, but I stop and plant my feet. “There’s only one way you could have known a package of Red Vines would get me to trust you. And Foxtrot? That’s Ford. What happened to him?”
His green eyes darken, and he shakes his head. “We have to leave. Right fucking now. Faruk’s men took Ford—we think to a bunker on the west side of the compound to interrogate him. But Nomar ran into ‘complications’ as he put it. No clue what he meant by that. Our diversion goes off in ten minutes, and if we’re still here, we’re dead.”
Trevor tightens his grip and half-drags me through the communal dining room and back to the kitchen.
“Why is Faruk interrogating him?” I whisper as Trevor urges me to duck down so we’re not seen through the window to the courtyard.
“Because we used him as leverage to get in. Said we’d caught him after he’d murdered the fucker running the flesh auction and let the girls go. His cover story is that he’s an American ex-pat living in Kabul and was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But after we destroyed half the building and killed the guys running the sale, I doubt Faruk will believe him.”
My heart skips a beat. “The auction? Oh God. Ivy and Mia. Are they—”
“They’re safe. Now, come on. We have to get you out of here, and I’m not leaving Ford for that asshole, so you’re coming with me. We just better hope no one sees us.”
Readjusting my headscarf, I meet Trevor’s gaze. “If we’re seen, start yelling at me. Tell me how much I’ll suffer. There’s an old well fifty feet from the gate. That’s where you say you’re taking me. On Faruk’s orders. Any of his men will believe it.”
“Joey—”
“It’ll work. Just…don’t put me down there.” My eyes burn, but I swallow hard as Trevor pushes through the back door and out into the night. We keep close to the wall of the house until we come across a door with a thick padlock.
