“What if she’s another victim?” Daniel asked the question in such a soft voice I had to think about what he’d said.
If that was the case, karma had decided it was time for all three of us to roast in hell for what we’d done.
For the first time, it was a sentence I was willing to accept.
* * *
Cassie
Blackness.
Terror.
Gasping, I tried to take several deep breaths, my lungs aching for air. Even though I opened my eyes, I couldn’t focus let alone breathe normally. Where the hell was I?
Everything ached. My head. My muscles. My mind. Nothing seemed real, the fog surrounding my head driving daggers into my eyes as I blinked. It was bright, so much so that I winced. Then I tried to roll over.
I couldn’t move.
Not my arms or my legs.
After taking several ragged breaths, I shored up what little strength I had, attempting to jerk up, but nothing budged. A whimper escaped my dry mouth, my throat aching from the lack of hydration. That much I could tell about my condition, but nothing else. I blinked several times, still taking scattered breaths. Then a few things in front of me came into focus. An open window, drapes floating in the breeze. A colorful wall.
A car. A man. Blackness.
Oh, my God.
As the ugly memories of being on the side of the road rushed into my mind, I tried to form a scream or any sound, but every noise I made was strangled. Whimpering, I struggled with whatever was holding me down. I was finally able to lift my head, but as soon as I did, the hard pounding behind my temples created a wave of extreme nausea. I was going to throw up.
I eased my head down, fighting my nerves and increasing fear. That wasn’t going to do me any good.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
After a few seconds, I opened my eyes again, trying to understand where I’d been taken. There was a ceiling fan lightly pulsing around and around. It seemed oversized, tropical in design. I almost laughed. This certainly wasn’t paradise.
My thoughts drifted to the last memory. Daniel. He’d been the one to capture me.“You’re going to be alright.”
Had he said the words? Everything was fuzzy, but I could swear he’d acted like he cared about me.
I’d failed in my attempt. Maybe now, I was being taken to prison for killing two men. Wait a minute. I lifted my head again, able to shove aside the churning in my stomach enough to gather a real look at my surroundings.
I was in a room somewhere, the breeze indicating wherever I’d been taken was warm, humid. As I managed to turn my head, I was able to see a palm tree in the corner next to a floral chair and table. Wait a minute. What was this place? I shifted my attention to what was holding me down, then fought to keep from whimpering. The bindings were thick, leather strapped around my wrists and ankles, tethered to a bed. I was completelyimmobilized, held prisoner. Daniel did this? The man who’d worked tirelessly to remove criminals from the streets?
This smelled of Alexander, not the CIA agent.
But I couldn’t ignore what Daniel had learned at the university, the bizarre courses he’d been required to take. He’d been trained as a killer prior to joining the CIA, recruited after leaving the special place harboring infamous young adults. The pain in my head turned to anguish, forcing me to return to a supine position. He was going to kill me. I knew it.
I tried to calm down, fisting my hands as I continued to struggle with the bindings tethering me, but it was no use. I was going nowhere. After a few minutes, I was far too exhausted to keep trying. That’s when I concentrated on the sounds sweeping in from the open window. The sound of chirping birds was evident, their sounds so happy. I could tell there was bright sun outside, although the shadows indicated a least a single tree hiding the bright rays. When I heard another strange noise, I craned my neck, trying to figure out what I was hearing.
Waves?
Wait a minute. Was I hearing the ocean crashing against a shore? That was crazy. However, with the humidity and a beautiful, delicate fragrance floating in through the same window, I knew I could be right. But that didn’t make any sense. Why not kill me then toss my body into a dumpster in DC?
A strange sound rumbled from my chest, another wave of terror that threatened to drive me over the edge. What did the man want with me? The wave of panic driving into the very core of my being forced me to keep struggling, doing everything I could to free myself. I jerked and fought, the frame of the bed slammingagainst the wall given my efforts. I couldn’t stop the whimpers and groans from erupting, no longer caring who heard me.
A sizable popping sound was followed by my arm feeling free. All my effort had been rewarded, the strap holding me in position snapping. Excited, I yanked it all the way free then tried to curl my body so I could reach my other arm.
That’s the exact moment the door was swung open.
