My Sweet Escape
A Touched by an Angel Novel
Roselynn Reyes
My Sweet Escape Copyright © 2013 by Roselynn Reyes
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. If you are reading this book and you have not purchased it or won it in an author/publisher contest, this book has been pirated. Please delete and support the author by purchasing the ebook from one of its many distributors.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictionally.
Cover done by Okay Creations.
Editing by Bibliophile.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me-Psalm 23:4
To my husband
And to all my friends
You guys are amazing!
Chapter 1
When he first found me, my head was down and there was blood dripping from my bottom lip. My hair was covering my face, covering the wounds I’d accumulated. I took a deep breath and released it, my hair barely moving due to all the dirt embedded in it. I heard the footsteps coming closer, splashing water with every step, blocking the drip-drip-dripping noise somewhere in the far corner, like a faucet that wasn’t properly closed.
I flinched in my chair, which reminded me of the intense pain caused by the chains slowly scraping the skin off my wrists tied at the back of the wooden chair. My feet were sore and swollen. The terrorists had realized that I was too weak to attempt anything stupid, so they’d left them untied.
The room was dark, with a small window on my right side. A window that showed me that there was more out there than these four walls, but I never experienced it, never remembered it. The sun was blazing bright through it. There was water all over the floor, mold everywhere, and it was extremely hot and muggy inside. I’d already passed out a few times from both exhaustion and dehydration; and I’d vomited as well. I could taste it in my mouth, and there was some leftover vomit on my chin.
I was drenched in water, and I hadn’t slept in days. I’d slept in the same position for at least the past two months: in a chair, tied up in chains, with my hair covering my face. My body was feeling weaker and weaker with every second that passed. My heartbeat was slowing down every day; one day it would just give up and quit on me, and let me die in this place.
The footsteps came closer and I began to sob hysterically, even though I had a dirty rag in my mouth. My cry grew louder with every footstep and I began to shake as they approached. They’re coming again, I said to myself. I wondered what torture they had in mind this time.
But he ran his cool fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my face. And I immediately knew that these soft fingers weren’t those of a terrorist because of the tiny sparks of electricity that ran across the surface of my skin from his touch. The sparks traveled to my insides. It traveled straight to my heart, like a defibrillator bringing a dormant heart back to life. I immediately sat up straight, without looking at his face, taking a deep breath and exhaling without trouble.
“Samantha? My God,” I heard the man say with an American accent.
I immediately opened my eyes and looked at his feet, but flinched at the pain that shot through my right eye. That’s a beautiful name, Samantha. Is that supposed to be me? I had no memory of myself. No recollection of who I was or where I came from. The last thing my mind kept constantly replaying was laughter in the background, shiny black hair, and a beautiful garden. And then all I could see was these four walls. Nothing more. I don’t remember anything but these four walls.
He knelt in front of me and removed the rag from my mouth. My lips were cracked and busted in the corners from being kept open that way for hours. My jaw was so stiff that my brain told me to scream, but the guy put his hand over my mouth and a finger over his lips as a warning to silence.
I looked at his face as he was in front of me for the first time. I thought that I was imagining the whole thing. His skin was fair, translucent, and completely clear from any kind of scars or marks. His bone structure was absolutely magnificent with a straight nose, high cheekbones, and perfect European jaw line. But his best features were his eyes.
He pressed to his earpiece and whispered, “The Ruby is in sight.”
I tried to ask who Ruby was, because apparently he’d gotten the wrong girl. But my mouth was not functioning the way it should be. He got up from in front of me and made his way behind me, inspecting me. He gasped in a small voice but quickly composed himself. I wonder what he was looking at back there…
I felt like I was in a daze. I felt like I was dead, and he was here to take me away to Heaven. He came back in front of me and knelt down again, moving all of my hair away from my face, being very sweet with me.
“Who are you?” I whispered, sounding more like, “Whoryou?” My mouth wasn’t functioning correctly.
He smiled, flashing a perfect white smile and a dimple on his right cheek. “My name is Angel. I work for a secret rescue group. I’m here on behalf of your father.”
“My father?” I whispered.
“Yes, you went missing a few months back.”
I inspected his face, making sure I was understanding everything correctly. “But what am I doing here? I don’t understand why you called me Samantha. Who is my father? Who are you?” I pushed for answers. I needed to know what’s going on. This was the first person who’d actually spoken to me instead of about me. I wanted to know the truth. What’s going on?
Angel maintained eye contact, not giving anything away with his face before getting up and talking to his earpiece again. “The Ruby seems to be suffering from some sort of amnesia. Requesting permission to proceed… Sir, I am positive I’ve located the right subject…The Ruby is in custody. Over and out.”
“What’s happening?” my voice crackled.
He turned back to me with a poker face. “We need to get out of here.”
I looked towards the door that led outdoors and whispered, “Just you?”
“Yes,” he said. “Unfortunately, the United States has no authority on a kidnap case in another country, especially Afghanistan.” So I guess I was in Afghanistan. In the beginning, I’d tried to figure out my location. Of course, I knew I was somewhere in the Middle East because of their looks and speech. But eventually I’d given up. “So, in a secret mission, we’re able to come and rescue you, with a limited plan of course.”
A limited plan? More like a suicide mission. Why wasn’t there anyone else here helping Angel out? We would never get out of here alive, especially with those maniacs running around out there with machetes and guns.
He walked around and began to work on my wrists, jiggling them for a few minutes. I heard him grunt in frustration and tug on the chains slightly until he finally pulled them free. He didn’t realize that tugging on the chains like that hurt like hell, but I couldn’t talk any more. I tried to scream but nothing came out. The chains felt like they were removing pieces of my skin with them, as he pulled my hands free. Defeated, my hands just hung at my sides. Blood quickly began to drip down to every single one of my fingers.
He came back to face me, but I kept my face down so my hair would cover it. “I don’t have anything for you to wear here, not until we get to my safe house,” he said, giving me a tiny bit of
hope that we might actually get out of here alive. His face was unreadable, and I gave him credit since I hadn’t showered in weeks and I was sitting in my own deposits.
I heard him walk around the small room and I finally looked up to take a good look at him. He was wearing black army pants with multiple pockets, and by the looks of it, they were all filled, making his thighs look like tree trunks. He had on black leather boots laced up to his ankles. There were guns strapped on both of his muscular thighs, and a bigger gun wrapped around his back, over his tight black shirt. It looked extremely heavy, but I guessed not for him since his back was straight. He even had on black leather fingerless gloves.
Tattoos completely covered his right arm. I tried to focus my eyes to see what they were but I couldn’t see anything past colors. Angel was very muscular. I could see the muscle lines on his arms beneath the shirt and his tattoos.
However, nothing but his accent indicated that he was someone from the States here to help me. But it was either this or stay in this shack and wait for the terrorists to finish me off and send me back to my father in pieces. A man I couldn’t remember; but that might not be the best way to receive your daughter back. And I don’t think I could possibly find a worse place in the entire world than this.
He came back to me with a bucket of semi-clean water and a washcloth I’d seen on the floor a few days back.
“Shouldn’t we get away from here before someone catches us?” I said in a hoarse voice.
He looked over at me and responded, “They come and check up on you every thirty minutes. We still have about twenty minutes or so before someone comes and make sure you’re still alive.”
He began to clean my face and hands, trying to remove all the dirt and blood that he could, but it seemed almost impossible. He squeezed the cloth at the top of my head, his muscles looking more pronounced by this action, letting all the water run down my face so he could scrub some dirt away. I just watched his face concentrate while I admired the beauty that was set in front of me. Well, if I died, at least I was able to look at something beautiful, like a masterpiece or a famous sculpture. After ten minutes of trying to remove dirt from my body, he gave up. He tossed the cloth aside with a curse.
He examined my body. There were bruises all over my face and body. Bite marks in places that I didn’t even remember. A bruise on my neck from where they’d tried to choke me with an electric wire. And my back had been slashed a few times for their entertainment, but I didn’t know about this until later on. He ran his fingers over the marks, leaving a tiny trace of coolness in my skin. He closed his eyes and shook his head a few times before he turned away. I began to think about the different tortures and closed my eyes as well. I was sure that if I didn’t die trying to escape, I would die from the depression.
What happened to me? I could remember the times when the terrorists raped me. I remember the nights of intense crying when the world was ignoring me. I remember some of the worst tortures. But I couldn’t remember how I got there or the reason for my kidnapping.
I looked up at him and was instantly frozen by his eyes as he turned them to me, turquoise like the Caribbean Sea. I stared into them, our eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity. His beauty caught me off guard and I couldn’t look away. I was expecting some military maniac with a pole up his you-know-what and a deep scar somewhere in his face. But instead I get the definition of perfection. I closed my eyes and felt a wave of nausea coming up. I turned my head and tried to hurl, but nothing came out, just whimpering silence. He caressed my cheek with his cool fingers in sympathy.
“I need you to put this on.” I opened my eyes as he began to remove the large automatic wrapped around his back. He pulled his black shirt over his head and handed it to me, leaving him only with a white tank, too tight for his muscular body. I looked at it as he walked away, talking to his earpiece again, “Black Angel here, the Ruby is being removed. Over and out,” and let go as soon as he was done.
I noticed that he was waiting for me so I slowly removed my dress and slipped on his tight black tee that only covered the tops of my thighs. But the material was more like tights, it was an under armor shirt. It smelled wonderful though, like outdoors, trees, grass, and other things I couldn’t put a name to. Of course, right now anything smelled better than feces, mold, and old water. I looked at it and inhaled the scent before I slipped it over my body. Pain jolted all over my body, leaving me breathless.
“I’m done,” I tried to say, but it came out as a whisper.
He heard me because he turned around and looked at me sitting with my hands hanging at my sides, my hair all over my face. He knelt back down in front of me with my old dress in his hands. He shredded it and tied the makeshift bandages on my ankles and wrists, covering my infected wounds.
He pulled my hair away from my face again, tucking it behind my ears and said, “I think that if I would have come tomorrow, you would have been dead.” His breath was sweet and cool in my face.
I looked up at him again as his hand lingered on my cheek, stroking it gently. I finally had a moment to look into his magical eyes once more before the chaos. We heard yelling in another language and rustling next door. He looked towards the door expectantly before turning back to me, eyes looking serious and concerned.
“We won’t be able to get out of here alive if you don’t help me.” He took a larger piece of my dress and wrapped it around my right calf. It jolted pain straight through my brain as he tightened it. “Your calf is pretty bad; does it hurt when you move it?” I stretched out my leg then shook my head a little. He walked around and lifted my shirt once more before touching my whip marks. He came back and caressed my cheek. “I need you to run, can you do that for me?”
I looked at the door one more time before I heard the noise next door again. I didn’t really think about his question. I just wanted to get out of there. I nodded quickly. At the same time, someone slammed the door open. Angel protected my body while he fired three quick shots in that direction. Those shots echoed loud and clear, ringing in my ears. The camp was quiet and calm for a few seconds. Everything was quiet. Then the alarm went off, sending everyone into frenzy.
Chaos erupted.
People began to shout outside. He put my arm around his shoulder and got up too quickly. This time I did scream out loud as he pulled me up. He took the last piece of my shredded dress and removed as much feces as possible from my back, cursing, and throwing it on the floor.
He began to jog, faster than what my body was able endure. I tried to make my feet function, trying to help him as I said I would. But I was too weak. My body wasn’t working. I hadn’t eaten real food in weeks. I felt more nausea burning in my esophagus, but I knew that it was just dizziness from the movement of walking and running, something that I hadn’t done in a while. He kicked the door out and found a terrorist with an automatic waiting for him. But he didn’t get a chance to even pull the trigger, because Angel shot him square in the forehead. I turned my face before the man hit the floor, and we started running in the opposite direction.
The sun was extremely bright. I could feel it burning through the open wounds and multiple bite marks all over my body. My head kept bobbing forward since my body lacked the energy it needed for this marathon. My feet practically dragged as Angel ran around the campsite. Thankfully, he was much taller than I’d realized, so my feet barely touched the burning sand.
My dragging feet left two lines, a great trail for the terrorists to follow. But there wasn’t any time for strategies because they were coming towards us, fast. I saw about five or six dusty trucks stopping in the middle of the campsite with armed men jumping off and running towards us, automatics in hand. I heard them screaming at each other in their native language. I felt him run his fingers along my waist, which gave me the chills, only to realize that he was reaching for his automatic.
I couldn’t catch my breath but I was trying to stay awake. I wanted to get out of here and I needed to help him out. But
I was fainting slowly…
I looked up through my hair, just as I heard the click from the safety and then the sound of the automatic firing. The sound was louder than I’d ever thought possible, making my ears ring. I didn’t remember it being so loud on video games. His body was shaking slightly as the automatic continued to eject bullets. It felt like he was having a seizure.
I looked behind him as a few men approached with machetes. I pulled on his shirt and he turned around quickly and began to shoot in that direction. He began to run sideways, avoiding the herd of bullets chasing us. He turned around, making me dizzy as the automatic began to eject bullets again. I felt my body become dizzy from all the movement. His spinning was making my head worse, so I grabbed his shirt with my bloody hand and held on tight. I closed my eyes, but quickly opened them again. I couldn’t let myself pass out. Not yet.
I turned my head to where he was aiming, just as Angel let go of me, sending my weak body crashing to the ground and my head hit the soft sand with a thud. My eyes closed on their own from exhaustion, but I needed to keep moving, I needed to get up. Everything settled for a moment. Everything went quiet as the debris settled down around me. When I opened my eyes, I saw a missile whistling just over my left ear, then exploding about a quarter mile behind me, making me jump in the sand and slam back down. I felt debris and ashes and sand falling all over my body in slow motion, and then everything went quiet again.
There was another missile whistling in the other direction, exploding a truck.
“Fuck!” He crawled back towards me and asked, “Are you okay?” He began to remove some of the sand from my face.
I nodded and he began to pick me up again. I felt like I’d rolled around the sand, since it was all over my body from the sweat. This time, he was running faster than before, automatic in hand. I saw the terrorists running towards us when Angel began to shoot them. I saw blood splashing out of their chests. I couldn’t face this. I buried my face in his neck for what seemed like forever. The automatic kept clicking away in all directions, empty shells swarming my bare feet.
My Sweet Escape: A Touched by an Angel Novel Page 1
