Page 94 of Her Mercenary
“Yes. I believe that spirits walk among us, those with unfinished business of sorts ... Not all are evil or haunt, some are just waiting for their time to redeem themselves.”
I looked up at the cross, then turned and jogged out the front door, where an old extended-cab red truck sat parked on the side of the road.
46
SAM
The basement door opened, allowing a band of light to pool into the room.
Two men entered.
I didn’t recognize them, and this sent my pulse skyrocketing. I stood, readying myself for whatever was about to happen.
Their soulless black eyes locked on mine as they crossed the concrete floor.
A knot formed in my throat, hot and sticky as I stared back, pushing to a seated position in my bloodstained yellow dress. My cuffed hands threw my balance off, and I stumbled a bit before regaining my composure.
They spoke quietly in Spanish. One pointed at me as he spoke. Their gazes raked over my body, assessing.
I began to tremble, something deep in my gut telling me that my entire time in captivity came down to this moment.
The door opened again, and a dark silhouette stepped into the room. The men turned, greeting the silhouette with a subservience that I instantly recognized.
Ardri.
Roman.
My heart skipped as the silhouette stepped into the dim light. Roman was dressed to the nines in a slick black suit, a blinding-white dress shirt, and the same shiny black wingtips I remembered from what felt like so long ago. He must have had clean clothes at the lodge.
He slowly crossed the concrete, scanning each cage as he passed, not offering even a single glance in my direction.
Right now, he was not Roman. He was Ardri.
My pulse roared in my ears as the man who’d told me he loved me hours earlier neared the corner of the room. Roman spoke in Spanish to the men, his voice deep, the Irish lilt sending goose bumps racing up my arms.
One man gestured to my cage.
Our eyes finally met, mine swimming with tears, his ice-cold. He stared at me a minute.
Everyone was staring at me, I realized. My heart felt like it was about to explode.
Finally, Roman dipped his chin, ordering the men to open the cage.
“Sit,” the guard demanded as he unlocked the door and swung it open.
Ducking his head, Roman stepped inside as I slowly lowered to the floor, my legs wobbling, my balance unsteady. I tucked my legs beneath me, keeping my toes flexed in case I needed to jump up at a moment’s notice.
His eyes locked on mine with warning.
I had no idea what the hell was happening, just that my body was crippled with adrenaline.
My focus flicked to the two men standing outside the cage, practically panting in anticipation of what was going to happen next.
What is going to happen?
Was Roman going to beat me in front of the men? Rape me?
Instinctively, I pressed my back against the cage, pushing away from the uncertainty of the man in black coming toward me.