Page 131 of Trapped Truth

“You will do no such thing!”

“It’s my risk to take, sweetheart.”

“You’re feeding yourself to the wolves, Blaine! This is madness.”

“I trust her.” His response is infuriatingly calm.

“You don’t even know who she is!”

“But I trust that she is my mother and understands the stakes. You don’t remain a prisoner for decades just to do your master’s bidding when the time for change comes. She’s a victim too.”

“Stockholm syndrome,” Warner supplies.

“Exactly!” I shout in agreement.

“For a man who sold her, raped her, stole her child away, sold her again then facilitated an entire lifetime of abuse?” Blaine bares his teeth, visibly disgusted by the thought.

“Yes. It happens.”

“I refuse to believe that after all this time, the years of searching, hoping, praying for answers, my mother is reaching out now to lure me into a trap. Frankly, if she is, I’m content to take that chance.”

“Well, I am not fucking content!”

Storming away from our group grants me a moment to catch my breath before I erupt into a volcanic explosion of rage. We haven’t come this far to take such a dumb risk now. Least of all for what sounds like a specifically designed honeytrap guaranteed to rip my family apart.

An empty liquor barrel cracks against the ground, then loudly rolls away after I smash my foot into it. Pain reverberates up my leg, but I don’t give a shit. I’d happily attack a line of opponents without breaking a sweat right now.

In the cartel, I understood their brutality. I knew what to expect. The torture became familiar, routine. Fight, win, earn a scrap of food or another day of life. The challenge was endurance, physical and mental. I learned to play that game well.

This elaborate dance of competing forces is a far greater test. It’s fraying every part of my mental fortitude down to its last fibre, ripping the vulnerable parts of my being wide open to receive enemy fire. And the most aggravating thing is that I can’t fucking stop it.

“Can you give us a minute?” I hear Blaine ask from somewhere behind me.

There’s a chorus of disgruntled sounds, but eventually, bodies shuffle and footsteps file out of the room. I don’t even bother to lift my head. I’m not going to be held responsible for my reaction if I do.

“Is it safe to approach?”

At the sound of his hushed laugh, I force myself not to whip around and gouge his eyes out.

“Don’t you dare make a joke of this, Blaine. You’re signing your death warrant!”

“No, I’m not.” A hand lightly clasps my elbow, tugging a little. “I’m learning to have faith. You taught me that. I never would’ve held out hope before meeting you.”

“So it’ll be my fault when you die?” My throat cinches into a knot.

“You’ve taught me to believe in people, Ember. To have faith in the power of love and family. To hold the possibility for more than the shallow existence I was told to live for so long. I want a real life now.”

“Then stay here with us.” I rip my arm free to whirl around, seizing his T-shirt. “Stay safe!”

The set of his jaw is resolute. “None of us are safe.”

“Safer than walking into the belly of the beast for someone you’ve never met.”

“Isn’t that what you did once when I asked you to trust me?” Blaine counters.

“That was different. I needed your help, I was desperate and trapped… I trusted you because I had no other options.”

“And we’re swimming in abundant options right now, I suppose.”