by Sara Fields
She hoped she’d see them again someday.
Before long, the lights dimmed in the room and she was left to ponder what her fate might hold in the dark. It wasn’t till then that she noticed the red blinking light. She was being watched and recorded. If she was a betting woman, she would guess that the president was watching her to see what she was up to. She’d have to remember that she was being taped, especially when he finally eventually showed his face.
Time would only tell now. Her nightmare was just beginning.
Sleep came over her eventually, but every stray sound—a footstep in a nearby hallway, a squeak of a door that needed oiling, the click of a generator whirring to life—startled her from sleep time and time again.
The next morning, or what she assumed was morning based off of the lights brightening in her prison room, the door clattered open and a tray of food was pushed inside.
A pile of eggs, sausage, bacon, and hash browns met her eyes and she groaned in relief. Pulling herself up and placing her feet on the floor, she slowly moved toward the platter and brought it back to the cot.
It was cold, but well-seasoned and way more filling and delicious than those stupid protein bars that the man who kidnapped her had given her.
The thought of drugs or poison coldly washed over her again but she did her best to ignore it. If they wanted her dead, why waste so many resources on her? No doubt the president paid the man to take her in the first place, including the resources needed to fund a trip across the galaxy to fetch her. The president very clearly needed something from her and wasn’t afraid to shell out whatever he needed to see it done.
When she finally finished the food, she pushed the tray away and picked up the cup of coffee off the tray. It was obviously cheap coffee without any creamer or sugar, but she enjoyed it anyway, having not had a cup of it in a long while.
The sound of heels scuffing the floor echoed outside her little prison room and she stood, fully expecting to find out very soon what the crooked Earthen administration needed. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for whatever was to come.
A small team of SWAT officers opened the door and one of them stepped forward and removed his mask. His harsh gaze met hers, dark green eyes judging her from afar. His head was shaved and his jawline was clean shaven, but she trembled inwardly as he stared her down. The instant his eyes met hers, she knew he’d spent some time in battle. She had no doubt that the gun attached to his hip had been used before and fairly often.
Biting her cheek, she waited for him to say something first.
“Jada Rivers, my name is Commander Clayton. I’ve been sent to escort you to the Oval Office, where President Ramsey is waiting for your presence,” the man said.
She nodded. He reached for her and took her arm, gently but forcibly leading her out of the room. The rest of the SWAT team surrounded her in a circle and the commander let go of her, but kept close by her side.
They guided her down the long hallway and into a large elevator. She looked at the buttons that indicated floors and she came to the realization that they were deep underground. The digital screen above her indicated that they were on B100 and she gasped as the elevator began to rise, passing those hundred floors within several seconds.
In no time at all, they had reached ground level. She was stuffed into another black van and blindfolded, before it drove off with her and the SWAT team. The ride was smooth and most like automated, from what she could tell anyway.
She estimated they traveled only a mile or two before the blindfold was removed from her eyes and she was guided out of the van.
Looking up, she realized that she was behind the White House before she was brought into a back door. Before she knew it, she was waiting outside of the Oval Office, the wooden door ominous even in its familiarity.
She hadn’t thought that she would have ever seen it again.
Biting her lip, she looked up as the door opened and she saw the dreaded countenance of President Ramsey. Her buried hatred brewed quickly to the surface and she glared back at him. Evil bastard.
His eyes stared in her direction, red and full of malice. They narrowed slightly as his large black pupils perused her body, clearing judging the filthy, tattered state of her ruined dress.
“We’ll have to put some new clothes for you on the expenses sheet. Maybe a suit or something, definitely not some sort of cheap bridal gown,” he grumbled, his voice low, gravelly, and sickly sounding.
Jada forced herself to bite her tongue.
His white trimmed moustache and beard were cleanly brushed and styled, as was his full head of snowy hair that was combed back over his scalp. Thick eyelashes drew together as he studied her. He looked like a politician and even like he could be your friend, but she knew better. Corruption lay behind his dark, beady eyes.
He wore a dark navy suit, its collar high on his neck with a silver medal pinned to his chest. Its design was sleek and modern, and she didn’t doubt for a second, very expensive.
“Jada, have a seat. We have much to discuss,” he began, and she was ushered forward, pushed actually. There was a dark wooden chair in front of his large mahogany desk and she begrudgingly sat before him, not left with much choice. Her heart beat wildly with nervousness in her chest.
She reminded herself to be brave, that she had faced larger, scarier things in her time away from Earth. She’d faced dragons, and tricky nymphs in the forest, as well as death at the hands of two dragons deep in battle. President Ramsey, although a rich, powerful man, was just a human and she needed to remember that. He only had as much power as she would give him.
“Why did you bring me here,” she began, keeping her voice steady and as businesslike as she possibly could.
Ramsey sat back in his chair with a grim smile.
“I have some loose ends I need you to tie up for me,” he replied.
Clearly, he thought he was being cleaver with his evasive tactics.
“What exactly do you need me to do for you?” she asked boldly, refusing to play his game.
He glared at her then, thinly veiled anger burning toward her and she did her best not to react.
“I thought I had taken care of everything when I’d had you exiled, thought it was all tied up in a neat little bow and that I could continue to rule as usual. Only, things have begun to unravel rather recently upon the unfortunate discovery of your journalist friend’s notes. Somehow, his hard drive got loaded into the dark web and has been plaguing me for weeks,” he explained finally.
“Sounds rather unfortunate just for you. Excuse me if I’m not bothered by your circumstances, as you did them to yourself,” she countered, glaring.
“And that’s where you’re wrong, Jada. If I have a problem, you also have a problem,” he replied. She bit her tongue, narrowing her eyes at his challenge.
“Why is it my problem?”
“You and me, Jada, ever since your betrayal, your questionable need to spread information to the world even when it could wind up with you dead, has intertwined our stories together. You see, if you die, it won’t look good for me. It would make things worse. Bad president, young innocent girl, yadda yadda.”
“That’s why you shipped me off of Earth? Instead of just killing me?”
“Indeed. Despite my annoyance at you breathing the same air as I, it’s way more valuable to me to keep you alive.”
Turning her head, she huffed her disbelief.
“What do you plan to do with me?” she questioned. “What torture do you have in mind for me next?”
“Not you, now that you bring it up, but another close friend of yours,” He turned and snapped his fingers, a computerized projector screen appearing out of thin air.
Fuck. No. It couldn’t be true.
It was her mother. She was tied to a chair, bound and gagged in the center of a bare, cold steel room.
“Mother!”
Jada’s heart dropped in her chest as she saw her mother’s face, terrified and darken
ed from a bruise forming over her left eye.
“You didn’t have to hurt her,” she said mournfully, fear and sadness for her family’s welfare growing by the second. Her mom flexed her fingers and looked around with confusion and Jada’s heart broke in two. Her mother didn’t deserve this.
It didn’t matter what Ramsey wanted her to do. She’d have to do it. Her family didn’t deserve whatever brutal torture he had in mind, some sick way to break her parents and splinter them into a thousand pieces. Whatever she had to do, she’d suffer for her family. It was her duty as their daughter.
“I’ll do what you want,” she said softly after a long moment.
“Good. I knew you’d see my side eventually,” he replied coolly.
“Why am I not in her place? Why didn’t you torture me instead? Hurt me in order to do what you wish?” she asked, very much aware of her place in whatever arrangement was about to be brought forth. President Ramsey had the power to twist her world apart and he wasn’t afraid to see it done. It was sickening.
He chuckled then.
“I can’t have your face battered and bruised for the cameras, now can I?” he started, his smirk growing larger by the second. Why did she feel like she was a fawn about to be showed inside a lion’s den?
She began to feel cold hatred billowing up from the very tips of her toes. This man was evil, pure evil.
“You’re going to go on camera at a news conference we schedule for you. You’re going to admit that you made everything up, fed the journalist false information and killed him when you thought he was going to take the glory for himself. You’re going to make people believe you. You’re going to sell that story as if your life depends on it, because your parents’ lives certainly do. You’re going to confess and tell the entire world of your shame and your guilt. Understand?” he said, his expression growing more serious, expectant.
He paused then and let the power of his words sink in. She looked at him in horror. All throughout her trial, she had always claimed herself as innocent, had never pleaded guilty to a single thing she had been accused of.
Now, it became clear to her the enormity of the situation, of what she’d been dragged back into. Pressing her palms together, she took a deep breath.
“If I do this for you, if I take the fall, you’ll release my family? You’ll let them go? Promise their safety?” she pleaded, slowly coming to terms with how much her hands were tied.
“You have my word,” he responded, his eyes hardening as he began to smile. He knew he’d won. His victory would be absolute.
“Then what? I disappear? You kill me or send me back to Draegira?”
“Now that depends on if the world believes your performance.”
She felt devastated.
Her name would be forever ruined. Her confession would damn her completely in the eyes of anyone watching, but most important, her family. They’d never be able to forgive her.
“I won’t know what to say,” she whispered.
“That will all be arranged. Your speech will be written for you and you will deliver it, word for word. If not, your mother will die. She’ll be killed in cold blood and it’ll be all your fault,” he threatened, and she could do little but nod at his assertion.
She had little doubt that he would follow through with that threat.
“Can I see her?”
“After the news conference, you can see your family. I want you on your best behavior until then. I am an understanding man though; since I have your full cooperation, I’ll see to it that your mother is given every comfort,” he said and then he turned and dialed a few numbers into a keypad.
Movement caught her attention on the screen and she watched while a group of men surrounded her mom, removing the gag and ropes on her skin.
Jada studied the room she was in, realizing with horror that it was remarkably similar to the one she’d been kept in before.
“Everything we want… Sometimes it’s so close, yet so far away, isn’t it, Miss Jada Rivers?” Ramsey pressed, and she stared numbly back at him.
Her mother had been kept in the same place she’d spent the night. If she knew Ramsey and his twisted humor, she’d been right in the room next to hers.
“What about my father?” she exclaimed, her fear growing to insurmountable levels.
“All in due time. Guards, escort Miss Rivers to the guest wing and see to it there are guards posted at the door at all hours,” he replied and turned away, focusing his attention on the terrified expression that blanketed her mother’s face on the computer screen.
“I hate you,” she growled as arms grasped hers and he laughed.
“The feeling is mutual, Miss Rivers,” he replied, smirking.
Chapter Twelve
Ramsey had his guards lead her into an opulent wing, complete with expensive furnishings and rich textiles, but she paid them little mind. Her thoughts were focused on what she had to achieve in order to save her family. That was most important.
Over the next few days, Ramsey didn’t call to meet with her again. Instead, she was cloistered away in the intricately designed guest room. She was fed her meals there, educated on the current state of affairs on the publicity on her trial, and given her speech, which she had to recite on the day of the press conference. Other than that, she was left alone to worry about her mother and her father.
When the day finally came for her to speak at the news conference, a group of designers and makeup artists arrived in her room, all apparently under strict orders of silence.
At first, she tried to goad them into talking for her, but she quickly realized that her efforts were in vain. Instead, she allowed herself to be dolled up and dressed in a black power suit, without creating a fuss once she got the hint. Attendants brushed her hair and applied harsh makeup to her face. When they showed her the results in a mirror, she realized she looked at least ten years older, a carefully calculated move to hide both her youth and innocence behind a mask. President Ramsey was even more calculating than she had anticipated.
She wished she could have cleared her name. Proven to the world that she was innocent and had never committed the grisly murder she’d been convicted of, but she didn’t even know how that would be possible now. Once she said the words in the speech and it was captured on film, she knew she could never take them back. Her shame would be taken and showcased for the rest of her life. No one would ever know the true story.
She was doomed.
Closing her eyes, she remembered her sweet mother, how her arms had felt when she’d fallen and scraped her knee, how her delicious cooking had tasted over the holidays. Holding back tears, she resolved herself to be strong and do what needed to be done to save her family. She looked over the typed-up speech she’d been given one more time, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.
It sickened her, but it had to be done. She had to do whatever it took to save her parents.
When the time finally came, she was led out of the guest room by a small group of operatives, all in fancy black suits. She didn’t see any, but she knew that they were carrying weapons and would use them if the opportunity presented itself.
A large crowd of reporters was waiting and shouting questions at some sort of public ambassador, but they all quieted when they saw her. She was led up to the podium and someone handed her a fresh copy of the speech they had prepared for her.
The tiny microphone on the podium stand squeaked and her mouth went dry.
Looking out into the crowd, tears threatened to fall as the implications of what she was about to do came over her. She opened her mouth, the first few words burned into her memory.
“My name is Jada Rivers,” she began, her voice hoarse and shaky at the start, but gradually increasing in confidence by the end.
She met the eyes of some of the reporters toward the front and stopped dead when she saw her father, strategically placed so that she would have had to be blind to have missed him. Biting her cheek, she smiled sadly toward him
and he returned it with a sad half-smile and a half-hearted wave. No doubt Ramsey had seen to it that he made it to the front of the crowd. She choked back a sob before beginning again.
“My name is Jada Rivers and I’m a convicted killer,” she started again, looking out over the crowd. Biting her lip, she started to read the words that threatened to condemn her and a voice yelled out loud, immediately capturing the attention of the entire audience.
“Stop!”
She stilled. She knew that gravelly male voice, knew its anger, knew its intensity and gasped audibly into the mic. A sense of relief poured over her.
Draego. How had he found her?
Bruddis muscled to the front of the crowd, his face angry yet stark with relief at finally finding her. She couldn’t help but smile and even swallowed back a laugh when he winked back at her.
Behind him, Draego roared and shifted into his dragon form. He flapped his wings and the entire crowd shifted in fear and started to scream.
On Earth, dragons weren’t real. Here, they weren’t supposed to exist, they were just a myth and everyone was terrified and it showed, including those who were supposed to be guarding her. She had the advantage now, the squad assigned with her didn’t and she made sure not to waste that single moment.
“My father!” she exclaimed, pushing the woman next to her out of the way roughly and jumping off the stage. Bruddis watched her as she pointed and hurried over to him, while watching her descent. When she finally reached him, Bruddis hurled his arms around her. He squeezed her tightly and she could hardly draw in a breath, but she didn’t care.
“We were so worried, little human,” he exclaimed.
“They have my mother, we have to save her,” she breathed. “We have to get out of here and find her.”
“Anything, as long as we get to bring you home and chain you to the bedpost for the rest of your life,” he replied, and she chuckled at his seductive pronouncement.
