“Keep watch,” I said to give him a task to focus on while I used my machete blade to saw through his bindings, taking great care not to cut him in the process. When at last he was free, he stumbled forward, and I caught him in my arms, holding him as close as humanly possible.
“I’ve got you,” I said while glancing around for the safest place for us to hole up for the night. I was dead on my feet and my leg was practically numb, none of which mattered all that much compared to what he must have endured.
“We can stay in his rig,” Kitten said, understanding our need to take shelter. “The keys are on his belt, the key to the cage as well.”
As soon as I let him go, he started wiping at his face with his shirt. For Kitten to know where the key to the cage was kept meant that Jeremiah must have put him in there. Like an animal. What else had that sicko done to him?
I strode over to the dead man and unclipped the key ring from his belt loop, then relieved him of his guns and knives. Tomorrow, I’d show Kitten how to use a gun. I’d burn Jeremiah’s body along with the rest, but I’d keep the Humvee and his weapons. Larry would want it for his arsenal, now that Jeremiah had proven to be a kidnapping rapist. I raised my radio to see if I could possibly get a signal to report back to Larry and the others, but Kitten reached out and stopped.
“No,” he said softly.
“No?” I asked, matching his tone, not wanting to frighten him anymore. “I need to let the others know that I’ve found you. Larry needs to know who he invited into his sanctuary.”
“He knows.” Kitten swallowed and stared at me with an emptiness in his eyes I’d never seen before, one that scared me more than the actual threat of death.
“He knows?” I said because I had to be sure.
“Yeah, Brother Larry knows.”
My heart hardened toward the man as my mind became a churning cauldron of rage. Shock warred with anger as I gripped the radio so hard I worried the plastic might crack. I put the radio away.
This changed everything.
TWENTY-TWO
KITTEN
The stenchof burning bodies clouded the morning air as I stripped out of my torn, dirty clothing and scoured my body from head to toe with a rag, using some soap and a jug of water that Jeremiah had stored away on his rig. Even though I’d stood over his dead body and looked into his vacant eyes, I kept glancing over my shoulder, expecting him to come back to life and chase me down.
“Kitten, you’re good,” Cipher said, gently laying his hand over mine. I’d scrubbed my skin until it was raw and even washed my mouth out with soap, making myself gag a little, but I still wasn’t clean.
Cipher handed me a towel and a stack of clothes that were too small to fit Jeremiah, which meant they’d likely belonged to someone else. One of his former captives? I tried not to imagine what had become of them or what could have happened to me. It would have been so much worse if Cipher hadn’t gotten there when he did. I wanted to thank him for what he’d done, but I felt strangely empty, a shell, and even though it was stupid to think this way, part of me wished I’d been able to rescue myself.
Once I was dressed, Cipher wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me to the makeshift table and chairs Jeremiah had set up, two logs laid next to a tree stump. On top of the stump was food, some of which Cipher had brought with him and some that he must have found in Jeremiah’s stores. Despite not having eaten for two days, my appetite was not great.
“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Cipher asked at my obvious hesitation.
“I don’t know what kind of meat that is.”
“Good point,” Cipher said, putting his own strip of jerky back on the table. He eyed me again, carefully. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
My savior, my dark prince, the man who would kill for me without the slightest hesitation. I couldn’t meet his searching gaze. For the first time ever, I didn’t want his attention. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear for a while. “I don’t feel good,” I said because he wouldn’t stop looking at me.
“I’m sorry for… I’m sorry that this happened. Did he…” Cipher’s jaw tightened. “Did he hurt you?”
I shrugged. He’d slapped me a few times and threatened me with some truly awful stuff, sedated me, caged me, and masturbated on me, not to mention the whole live bait thing, which scared me so bad that I’d peed myself and passed out in terror, so… yes?
At my extended silence, Cipher said, “I smelled him on you.”
My face burned in shame, even though I knew it wasn’t my fault. “He got off on my fear. At least, that’s what he said.”
“Did he rape you?” Cipher’s eyes were watching me intently, and I wondered if it would change anything between us if he had.
“No, he didn’t get the chance.”
Cipher nodded and stared at his hands, which were black with soot from tending to the bonfire of dead bodies, Jeremiah’s among them. A cloud of acrid smoke drifted our way, choking me. I tried to feel some way about it, but even my relief at being rescued was somewhat dim.
“I tried to get away,” I said because it seemed important that he knew it. “Before he put me in the cage, I’d taken his knife. When he let me out, I tried to stab him but he hit my hand and I lost the knife, so I ran and hid in the base of a tree until morning. I was heading toward the road when he shot me with a dart.”
