Page 40 of Stolen Faith
She was going to drown. She was dying, and she couldn’t stop it, couldn’t help herself.
Helpless. She was helpless.
They yanked her up, her face clearing the surface of the water. Izabel took a desperate breath, inhaling, but the air left her too fast as a sob shook her.
“Leave her alone! I’ll tell you whatever you need to know,” Brennon was yelling.
“Breathe, Izabel!” Rowan commanded.
She had heard yelling. Her fiancés.
“Again,” Barry ordered.
“No, please. No!” Brennon’s cry was the last thing she heard before they forced her down into the water.
The fifth time they dunked her, she lost all semblance of control. Until then, she’d been deliberate in her actions, holding her breath as long as she could, then releasing it, which provided some temporary relief. She kept trying to sit up, thinking maybe she could rise up just enough that if she turned her head to the side, she could take a breath and they wouldn’t notice.
But that fifth time, she screamed as they pushed her under. Screamed and thrashed. She sucked in a mouthful of water, her body instinctively swallowing rather than inhaling. They brought her up faster that time, and when they did, she gagged, nearly vomiting the water she’d just swallowed.
“Please,” she begged. “Please. Stop.”
“One more.” Barry sounded smug and satisfied.
She screamed again, knowing she shouldn’t, knowing it was stupid.
But she was so afraid. Helpless and afraid.
Her head went under again. Her lungs burned, her arms were ripped up from the zip-ties, and every muscle in her body was tight with pain and fear. They pulled her up and she sobbed, breathing uneven and broken.
“Sit her up.”
The Tweedles righted the chair.
Izabel’s wet hair fell around her shoulders. The bodice of her dress was soaked. She cried, full-body sobs that shook her shoulders. Her legs were trembling under her long skirt.
Barry grabbed her chin, forcing her face up. Izabel couldn’t meet his gaze. She felt like a coward. She tried to tug her chin from his hold.
“You want to go back in?” Barry thumbed her lower lip, pulling it down.
“No,” she whispered.
He laughed. “I didn’t think so.”
She felt small and stupid and helpless.
“Now then.” Barry pulled over the rocking chair. “Tell me, is Senator Jenkins a member?”
He was, but Izabel shook her head. “No.”
Barry stared at her. “I don’t know if I believe you. Fucking liberal twat is trying to take our guns away.”
Izabel’s eyes went wide. “H-he’s not! He’s not.”
Barry considered her. “Put her back in.
“No!” Izabel screamed. “No!”
“He’s not! He’s not a member!” Brennon said. “Is that what you want? You want to know who else is a member? We don’t know. They don’t tell us. It’s a secret.”