The fear in her voice cut at his heart. But he knew he couldn’t do anything.
He heard the muffled sounds of struggle from above as two men dragged her in. He forced himself to lie perfectly still as they forced her head down into the opening where he could see her.
“Lachlan! Oh, God, Lachlan is that you? What have they done to you?”
His mouth curled in anger. “Get that bitch out of here.”
She gasped, recoiling in shock. “Lachlan, please, I’m so sorry. There was nothing I could do.”
“Do you think I want to listen to your explanations? You betrayed me,” he spat malevolently. “Get her the fuck out of my face!”
He heard her broken sob as the men pulled her back. His chest burned. When the original guardsman’s face appeared again, Lachlan added, “I’ll be looking forward to watching what your visitor has in mind for that bitch. When he’s done, I want a turn.”
Her soft cries tore at his heart as they led her away.
The guard frowned, as if that hadn’t gone as he’d planned. “I thought you were lovers?”
“She’s the reason I’m here. Do you think I give a shite what happens to her?”
It was obviously not the reaction the guard had been expecting.
Which was exactly what Lachlan was hoping for.
The guard shook his head. “You’re a cold-blooded bastard, MacRuairi. But you’ll have some time to think about it. The Extractor won’t be here until tomorrow night.”
And before Lachlan could say anything more the door slammed shut, sending him into a sea of blackness.
Lachlan knew he couldn’t count on them to believe what he’d said about Bella. The thought of what they might do to her to get him to talk…
His gut twisted. He wouldn’t last long. He could hope to delay them with lies, but for how long? How long before he was faced with the choice of watching the woman he loved suffer agonizing pain or betraying his friends?
He should have known better than to offer bold proclamations of his ability to withstand any kind of torture to Bruce. Everyone had his breaking point. Even he.
Bella’s was her daughter. How could he blame her for what she’d done? When faced with an impossible choice, she’d chosen to protect her daughter. The moment of betrayal he’d felt had turned to understanding when he’d learned the truth. He could only imagine what they’d threatened to get her to agree.
And what was she going through now, being imprisoned again?
He needed to get out of here as soon as possible. His mind went to work in the darkness. It was so pitch black he couldn’t see his own feet. There was one good thing about learning from the guard what they intended: Lachlan’s fear for Bella had outstripped the panic of being in another dank hole.
He scooted around the perimeter of the room, inching toward the pile of bones. It wasn’t easy with his hands chained behind his back, but he dug through the grisly pile, tossing aside anything that was too big. Eventually, he found a piece that might work—it was about the size and length of his little finger.
He stood. After finding a rock at the right height, he held the bone as firmly as he could and banged his hands backward. He swore when the impact caused him to lose his grip. He had to sweep his hand around in the dark a while to find the bones. But the second time, it worked. The bone splintered in half.
He examined both pieces and chose the sharper of the two, which he honed further by filing it for a while against the rock.
When it was about the right shape and size, he carefully went to work on the manacles. It took him an hour, mostly because he didn’t want to rush and chance the bone snapping off in the lock, but eventually his hands were free.
Feeling around in the dark was easier now, and he worked his way around the room until he found what he’d noticed before: a small rectangular drain.
Berwick Castle had been built on a motte adjacent to the sea. At one time, part of the motte had been surrounded by water. The drain had been necessary to prevent the chamber from flooding with water. An iron grate covered it, but if he could work it free he might be able to squeeze through it and find his way out.
He worked for hours on the grate. Using the chain between the manacles that had bound his hands, he wrapped it around the grate and pulled. But the damned thing seemed welded into the rock.
He pulled and dug until his hands bled. God, what he would have done for Boyd’s additional strength!
It was one of the most satisfying moments of his life when the bloody grate broke free.
Ignoring the demons of panic roaring in his head, Lachlan forced himself to squeeze into the tight hole. There was barely an inch to move around him. He wound like a snake through the rocky maze, contorting his body into the narrowest shape possible and praying he didn’t get stuck. Jagged pieces of rock tore through his flesh, but he could hear the sound of water below and knew that he must be close.
