Page 92 of Her Mercenary

I pictured Sam, the fear in her eyes from inside the cage. I heard her voice, “Get it done already ... Just get it done.”

I saw the men attacking her, mounting her like dogs, dragging their fingernails down her back.

These hands.

My father’s hands. My brother’s hands.

Did he know? Did Conor know I’ve been hunting him for years?

Where the fuck was he?

Rage spun inside me, a wild, all-consuming fury.

I tilted my face to the ceiling and released a guttural scream.

44

SAM

I awoke in my cage, back in the lodge, feeling like my insides had been spread across the interstate and run over by a hundred haul trucks. I had no idea how I’d gotten back to the lodge, or how many hours or days it had been. They’d kept me drugged the entire time.

I curled into a ball at the back of my cage, hugging my knees to my chest, so incredibly nauseated.

I’d been given a yellow dress to wear—the same one the brunette had been wearing when she was shot and killed while trying to escape. My hands had been cuffed and my dog collar reattached, this time secured tight enough to feel like a fist was wrapped around my neck. It hurt to swallow, to breathe.

The children were nowhere in sight.

Men swarmed in and out of the basement, carrying boxes back and forth. The number of voices above me had doubled, along with a constant stream of pounding footsteps. The sound of engines rumbled in and out of the driveway, more loud voices, orders being yelled.

Something was happening soon.

I kept myself small, pressed into the corner of the cage. Eyes down.

The hours passed slowly. I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t cry. I just sat there, staring at the bottom of my cage, dead inside.

I was sure this was it for me. And the worst part? I’d accepted it.

I didn’t know where Roman was, or if he was still alive. Had they captured him too? All I knew was that this time, my hero hadn’t saved me.

I’d lost all hope. In that moment, I was unquestionably ready to die.

I’d lost Roman. I’d lost my freedom again. The children were gone, probably sold or already killed.

I’d truly lost myself.

Somehow, I knew that even if I were to get out of this nightmare once again, I would never fully return mentally.

Yes, I was ready to die.

There was nothing good left of me.

45

ROMAN

My scream echoed off the church walls as I dipped down and picked up the cell phone I’d dropped.

I turned to find the old lady was gone.