Melody Anne - Scorched

They planned to do unspeakable things to her on video for Adriane’s benefit. She didn’t know when the next part of their nasty game was going to begin, but fear seized her heart at the thought of it.

With trembling legs, she rose from the bed and opened her eyes to look at the man’s face. She wanted to remember every single feature. When she got out of this — because she refused to believe she wouldn’t — she wanted to be able to identify him.

He would pay. They all would.

Rachel followed him down the narrow hallways, the only light coming from the uncovered bulbs hanging every ten feet or so. Layers of dust and grime covered every surface, and the windows were boarded up.

If she’d had a clue where they were, maybe she wouldn’t have felt so hopeless, felt that there was no chance of rescue. This was obviously not Gianni’s regular abode. The son of a king wouldn’t live in such filth.

No. This was a perfect place for him to have her — a place no one would suspect. How had he managed to get American men to work for him? There were a few men from his country there, about five that she’d managed to count. But he also had about ten Americans, to judge by their accents. Why would they help him?

Money. The depths that some humans could stoop to for a few dollars was abhorrent to her. They not only had no problem with torturing a pregnant woman, but they enjoyed doing it.

When they reached the dingy kitchen where she’d been brought a couple of times before, the thug thrust her into a chair none too gently, then slapped a bowl of oatmeal in front of her, its lumps turning her stomach.

“Don’t turn your nose up at good food, princess. You will need the energy to get through the interrogation that’s coming,” he taunted her, and moved off to a corner of the room to watch.

Just then, the door opened and Gianni walked in, his eyes as black and hollow as they’d been each time she had the misfortune of seeing him.

He sat across from her and sneered — his idea of a smile — as he waited to see what she would do. They had mocked her the first time she’d refused to eat what they chose to serve her, telling her she wasn’t royalty yet and had better take what they offered.

Then Gianni had spent hours relentlessly questioning her. What he asked her, she didn’t have answers for. Even if she wanted to tell him, she couldn’t.

A shudder ran through her. She didn’t know how much longer she could take it.

It’s for the babies, she told herself as she picked up the spoon and took a bite of the half-cooked oatmeal. It was disgusting, but she hoped it would stave off starvation and give her just enough energy not to fall face-first when she had a chance at escape. Because the first chance she got, she was running as far from this place as possible.

If she was going to die, then she was going to do it fighting, not cowering in the corner the way they expected her to.

Only once since arriving had she been outside, and snow had covered the ground. They had huge floodlights all over the yard, making it impossible for her to sneak out beneath the watchful gaze of Gianni’s guards. There were woods all around, so if she could get to them, she had a place to hide, but she’d bet there wasn’t another house around for miles. If the elements didn’t kill her, then wild animals might. It was still a better death than being tortured and raped.

“Have you decided to cooperate yet?”

Rachel looked the man dead in the eyes while she forced another spoonful of mush into her mouth. She said nothing.

“Ah, I see you still think you have choices here,” he said, a corner of his lip turning up as he gazed at her, his head tilting slightly as if she were a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out how to solve.

“I can understand why my brother is so fascinated by you. There is fire running through your veins. If we had met under more…pleasant circumstances, I might have fancied you myself,” he said. It was a compliment she could do without.

Rachel didn’t blink, just tried her hardest not to explode. It wasn’t the right time yet. He was a slimy slug and she would have no qualms about gouging out his eye with a fire poker if she could get her hands on one. Unfortunately, these men weren’t stupid, and they allowed no possible weapons where she might get to them.

She wanted to scream, but kept silent, conveying her loathing of him loud and clear with just a look.

His hand lifted and caressed her face. When she jerked her head away, he grabbed her hair, yanking it and pulling her forward so her bowl was knocked over the edge of the table. “I think it’s time to teach you how a real king gets a woman to behave,” Gianni said, his voice deadly. He stood and grabbed her arm, bruising her as he hauled her from her seat.

Rachel struggled against him, but to no avail. Gianni raised his other hand and slapped her hard enough that she nearly blacked out. Her eye began swelling as he moved toward the door.

Within a few seconds, the heavy back door was open and he pushed her outside, making her stumble and sink to her knees in the snow. Two of his men approached and grabbed her arms, lifting her back to her feet as they continued their forward march. She couldn’t suppress her overwhelming fear about what would happen next. As she trembled from terror and the cold, they marched her barefoot through the snow to a shed.

Opening the door, they tossed her in. Rachel landed on her backside and scooted away from the men to the far wall.

“Why don’t you cool off for a while and see if it gives you a better attitude? When you are ready to speak to me, we’ll allow you to come back inside,” Gianni said before the door shut, locking her inside.

The shed did little to ward off the bitter cold of winter, and Rachel’s thin clothing helped her not at all. So she searched until she found an old tarp under a pile of debris.

Folding it in two, she felt the gripping cold of the plastic material pierce through her clothing and freeze her skin while she wrapped the thing, filthiness and all, around her shoulders. But it was all she had, and she prayed it would help to hold in what little body heat she had remaining.

Curling up in a fetal position on the hard earth floor, she breathed deeply into her plastic cocoon, refusing to let any tears fall.

This wasn’t how her life was supposed to end.

She was supposed to be a mother in five months; she was supposed to hold her babies close as she dreamed about tomorrow.

Rachel knew she should try to stay awake, but as sleep began dragging her under, she soon stopped fighting it. She didn’t want to be awake. If she didn’t ever awaken, it was meant to be.

Letting go, she huddled beneath the tarp and prayed for the comfort of dreams to replace her harsh reality.

The door swung open and Shane was standing there in full military gear, looking like GI Joe come to life. Rachel was trying to analyze this dream. Why would she be fantasizing about Shane? She’d think it would be Adriane, the man she loved, rescuing her.

But, no, not even in her fantasies was he playing the star and the hero. Maybe she’d closed the door on the hope of a happily ever after with her king; maybe she thought it was too much to hope for at this point.

She did think it would be mighty nice if Shane passed his coat over to her, though. If she were going to have a fantasy about him stripping, then she’d really like to have his coat.

Rachel giggled at the thought. The sound of her voice coming out squeaky startled her into stopping her laughing as quickly as she had begun it. Wow, this was a strange dream.

“Put this on,” Shane said, rushing to her and placing a bag at her feet, then kneeling down and helping her sit up. Rachel gave him a sweet smile and nodded her head. She tried to reach for the bag, but her fingers wouldn’t work.

Maybe she had frostbite. It wasn’t unlikely. Maybe she was already dead and this was heaven. But why would Shane be in her heaven?

“Let me help you,” he said, then he carefully removed the tarp. She wanted to protest even though it wasn’t much protection against the cold.

Within a few heartbeats, a warm coat was being wrapped around her shoulders, sending some feeling back into her arms. Then gloves were being thrust upon her hands. Oh, this dream was getting better all the time. If she got out of here alive, she’d have to apologize to Lia about fantasizing about Shane. At least she could tell her sister that she’d been fantasizing about Shane putting clothes on her, rather than taking them off.

She’d never been attracted to Shane, but right now, she could kiss the man.

“Lean on me,” fantasy Shane said as he pulled her into his arms, making her stand up on wobbly legs. She didn’t like this part of the dream. Her feet ached from walking in the snow and then being clenched stiffly as she’d tried to curl up into as tight a ball as she possibly could.

Soon, warm pants were pulled up her legs, and then, even better, thick wool socks. Before she could blink, Shane was putting shoes on her feet and tying the laces.

Rachel reached out and touched his face, afraid he was going to disappear and she’d find herself huddled in the cold again without the fabulously warm clothing enveloping her.

“Shane?” she asked.

“I’m here, Rachel. I’m getting you out of here,” he said, his voice soothing as he wrapped her in an affectionate embrace.

Wait a minute. She could actually feel him. She’d never had a dream this real.

When Rachel realized this was no dream, her emotions released in an avalanche. She began sobbing against his shoulder as the warmth began returning to her aching joints. He must have placed warmers in the clothing, because she could feel real heat penetrating her frozen form.

“Eat this,” he commanded, placing a PowerBar in her hand. Rachel didn’t hesitate to lift it to her mouth and bite down, and she moaned as the flavors exploded on her taste buds and she knew the lovely calories were headed toward her stomach.

Not caring that she looked like a savage animal, she gobbled the bar down greedily, eating every last bite. She nearly licked her glove-covered fingers, but Shane placed a water bottle in her palm and instead she lifted it to her mouth and guzzled.

“Can you run?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied. She hadn’t had much food the last couple of days and her body was still frozen.

“I need you to run just to the fence, OK? I have to keep my gun out in case anyone tries to stop us. It’s dark out, but floodlights are illuminating the yard and I don’t know when Gianni’s men are going to come check on you. I saw them put you in here two hours ago. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to you, but the yard finally cleared so I could safely reach the shed. I’ve counted about fifteen guys in total. I couldn’t take the chance of having them hit you while trying to get me.”

“That’s OK,” she said, not really knowing what she was saying.

“No, it’s not. None of this is OK. I got here as fast as I could, but it wasn’t fast enough. Rafe and Adriane will meet us. Their plane just landed an hour ago and they are moving as fast as they can to reach us. They wanted to be here for the rescue, but I wasn’t going to wait. We just have to get past the fence line, and I have a snowmobile ready.”

“Sure,” she mumbled.

“All right, I’m going to open the door. Hold on to my belt,” he said. She took a couple of unsteady steps, testing her legs. They were holding her upright. That was a good sign. “Don’t let go,” he commanded her.

She acknowledged his order with a nod.

“Trust me, Rachel. I’m going to get you out of here.” He leaned down and hugged her again before placing her hand on his belt and cracking open the door. “It’s all clear. Don’t make a sound. We’re going to move swiftly and get the hell out of here.”

She didn’t say a word as her muscles tensed in preparation. She’d do what he said and hope she didn’t fail him. She wanted to survive. She needed to.

Without further delay, they were off. After only a few paces, she heard shouting to her right and then Shane lifted his gun and began shooting. Gripping his belt for all she was worth, she focused on putting one foot in front of the other as she ran behind him. She knew he could move faster, that he was slowing his pace for her. As much as she wanted to leave, she was going as quickly as she could. She was grateful he seemed aware of her limits.