‘Okay, let’s see if they come in again tonight. I think I have an idea, but if it doesn’t work we’ll either still be in this situation…or worse.’
A couple of weeks later and there had still been no news. Stevie had reluctantly returned to work in a bit of a daze. The kids knew that something was amiss and were behaving very well. She managed to get through her days without knowing how to function. She had lost weight and stopped caring about her appearance. People at work behaved like they were walking on glass around her. Like she was made of glass in fact and would break at any moment.
‘I know this is a silly question, but have you heard anything?’ Mollie asked tentatively at lunch.
‘Erm, no, nothing. I don’t know what’s going on. Dillon and Oliver have been speaking with the British Consulate. But I don’t think they’ve made much progress yet. It’s a very sensitive situation.’
‘They will, hon. Don’t give up hope, eh? Jason’s as strong as an ox, and he won’t let them get the better of him. Trust in that.’
‘I’m trying, Moll. But the thought of them hurting him. Of them…of…’ Nausea washed over her at the thought and she began to shake.
Mollie stroked her arm soothingly. ‘Hey, come on. We’re stopping this right now. Me and my big mouth. I should’ve kept it shut. You’re doing so well. I’m so sorry I brought it up.’
Stevie shook her head. ‘It’s okay…honestly. Not talking about it doesn’t make it go away.’
‘I know. But I think we need a distraction.’
She turned to face Mollie. Her interest only slightly piqued. ‘Like what?’
‘Like I come to yours tonight. I bring a Johnny Depp movie…or…or a Channing Tatum flick…or better still, both! And we get drunk, eat crap, and drool over hunky men.’
Stevie forced a smile. ‘Sounds like a plan.’
Deep down, however, she knew that no distraction was going to work. No amount of hunky men ogling was going to take her mind away from the only man she gave a tiny rat’s ass about. He was off in some foreign country being tortured, kept against his will, and goodness knows what else. Her heart ached at her apparent ineffectuality in the whole situation.
Mollie arrived at Stevie’s door with her arms full of bags. It was seven in the evening, and Rowdy was skipping around, clearly excited to see one of his favourite humans.
‘What the heck have you got there?’ Stevie reached to take a bag from Mollie’s hand. Mollie immediately used the free hand to scratch behind Rowdy’s ear.
‘Chinese food. Three bottles of red wine. Magic Mike and Chocolat on DVD. Two huge bars of dark chocolate with mint—your fave—two big bags of sweet and salty popcorn—my fave and my jammies. Figure I’d stay over if that’s okay.
Stevie’s eyes began to water yet again.
Mollie’s face crumpled. ‘Oh no, no, no. What did I say?’ She stepped inside and placed the other bag down, removed the one Stevie had taken, and placed that down too. Pulling her into a hug, Mollie stroked her hair.
Stevie sniffed and wiped her eyes. ‘Oh God, just ignore me. I’m a mess. Any time anyone is the slightest bit nice to me, I break down.’ She tried to smile.
‘There she is. There’s that smile. Now come on. Let’s pig out and watch hunky naked men cavort.’ Her eyes sparkled and Stevie began to relax.
Jason heard the door scrape open, and he cringed as Oriel flinched beside him. The men this time sounded different. One spoke to Ori in a softer voice, and she responded the same.
‘Jason, this man is going to remove your head covering. He’s brought some bread and water for us. He’s untying me so I can feed you.’ This was strange. Up to now food, which had tasted like dry grain of some sort, had been shoved into his mouth by one of the captors, who thrust it up under the sacking. The temptation to bite the hand that fed him was at times overwhelming. Water had been poured into his face, literally through the holes in the sack, and as a result had tasted dirty and gritty.
But as Oriel had indicated, the cover was suddenly removed, and Jason gasped at the air around him as if coming to the surface of a deep lake. Whilst it wasn’t exactly clean air, it was better than the dusty stuff that filtered through the sack over his head. He blinked his eyes open as they adjusted to the new level of light. Again, still not bright sunlight, but enough to make it sting as his pupils contracted. Once he was adjusted sufficiently, Oriel lifted the water bottle to his lips and tipped it slowly. He gulped down the lukewarm liquid as if it was nectar from the gods, breathing a sigh of relief and resting his head back to look at Oriel and the men. Her face was bruised, and her lip was healing from what had apparently been a blow to her mouth. Anger bubbled inside him, and his jaw clenched.
She touched his face and stared deep into his eyes. He felt sure she was willing him to stay calm and swore he saw the slightest shake of her head. He glanced around the room they were being held in. It was some kind of concrete bunker, similar to the one that had been their base. Dust motes danced in the beams of light shining in through cracks in the wood covering the windows. The room was empty and the floor covered in dirt.
Peering up at the men, he saw that they were armed, wore masks, and were kitted out in army style uniforms. One was very tall and the other of average height. He could tell nothing else about them other than they both seemed relaxed considering the situation. One handed a chunk of bread to Oriel, and she brought it to Jason’s lips.
He kept his mouth closed and spoke through clenched teeth. ‘Why are they feeding us if they plan on killing us?’
‘I don’t know, Jason. But please eat. It’s been such a long time since you have eaten and drunk properly.’
‘I’m suspicious. What are they playing at?’
‘Qu’at-il dit?’ one of the men directed what sounded like a question at Oriel.
She spoke with a wavering voice. ‘Pourquoi etes-vous nous nourrir?’
The men looked at each other but didn’t answer. One of them simply gestured without words that Jason should eat. So he did.
Once the men had re-tied Oriel’s hands behind her back and gone again, Jason turned to her. ‘They didn’t cover my head, Ori. I’m not happy. This feels strange. Something’s not right.’ His breathing was rapid, and his heart pumped quickly in his chest.
Oriel’s eyes filled with fear. ‘What should we do?’
Jason took a deep breath as the plan formulated in his mind. ‘Okay, they took my gun when they captured us, but I usually have a knife in my boot. I have no idea if they took it. Can you wiggle down to my feet and see if you can find it?
Oriel dragged herself towards his feet as quickly as she could and positioned herself with her back facing his right boot. Awkwardly, she reached and slipped a finger inside. She gasped.
Her eyes were wide. ‘How the hell did they not find this?’
‘We were armed with guns. They probably didn’t think we’d carry knives too. Not all of us do. Can you grab it?’
She delved into his boot to where the knife had slipped down and struggled. The door began to open, and she threw herself into his lap, head first. Jason bent forward to kiss her head. His back straining as he did so.
There was a hoarse laugh. ‘Awww. C’est l’amour.’ Came the husky, mocking voice Jason had grown to hate.
The door closed again, and Oriel pushed herself up, glanced at Jason, and apologised.
‘Hey, don’t worry. I don’t care how we get out and what we have to do to make that happen. We’ll do whatever it takes, Oriel. You will be safe.’ She smiled as tears made her eyes glassy. ‘Come on, try for the knife again.’
She scrambled back to his boot and after some contorting managed to grip the knife and bring it out. The sheath was still stuck in his boot, and she nicked his ankle with the blade as she withdrew it.
‘Oh, Jason, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?’
He gritted his teeth and smiled. ‘I’ve had worse from shaving. Don’t worry. Now scoot yourself back up here.’
Once again, Oriel dragged herself back beside Jason and leaned against the wall.
He nudged her shoulder. ‘You did good. Now, when we can be sure it’s night, we’re getting out. We’re not staying here any longer than absolutely necessary. Not if they’re planning on chopping things off…or worse.’
As the room became darker with only a tiny amount of moonlight filtering into the room, Jason glanced down to Oriel. She had dozed off leaning on his shoulder. He nudged her.
‘Ori…Ori, wake up.’ She sat bolt upright and squinted at him in the lessening light. ‘Right, now you’re going to have to swivel around and try to cut the rope that’s binding my hands. I’d rather you do this first as I don’t want you getting cut if I try to do yours first.’
She looked panicked. ‘But…but what if I cut you again? I can’t…I—’
‘Ori, you can do this. If you cut me, I’ll bleed, yes, but I will heal too. So please do as I ask. Please.’ He pleaded with her, trying to convey his belief in her with his eyes. She nodded, and the pair moved so their backs were together. They heard a noise outside and froze.
Then, it went silent again.
Oriel began fumbling with the knife. Jason could tell she was being cautious and doing her best not to cut his flesh. But at one point he winced and drew a sharp breath. She gasped and stopped. Evidently she too had felt the warm liquid trickle over her fingers.
‘Ori, it’s okay,’ he said as soothingly as he could. ‘Carry on. Please don’t worry. Just do it.’ She continued and after what felt like an eternity, his hands were free. He moved them around to assess the damage and Oriel sobbed. He pulled her into a hug and kissed the side of her head.
He ducked down to meet her eyes. ‘Hey, stop. I’m fine.’ He smiled. ‘You missed all the essential veins, so you can stop crying now.’ He hoped his smile was encouraging. ‘Let me cut your ties.’
He dragged the bloody blade through the ropes binding Oriel’s wrists, working quickly. And then he cut the ties around their feet. He pulled her to standing and quickly embraced her as she cried again, clinging to him. The feisty, flirty girl he had grown fond of was gone. The one before him looked terrified and so very fragile. Her shiny blonde hair was matted with blood and dirt, and her eyes had lost their sparkle. His heart ached for her. He was angry with himself. He should have protected her from this.
Speaking calmly in the hope he would instil some peace into her, he said, ‘Okay, we’re going to check what’s going on out there. If the coast is clear, we’re making a run for it. I don’t have a clue where we are or who we can trust out there if we make it, but this is a chance we’ll have to take. You need to keep up. If I have to drag you or carry you, I will. I’m not leaving you. We’re going home, Oriel. Do you hear me?’ She nodded as her widened, fear-filled eyes stayed focused on his.
Jason did his best to tug the door open quietly, but the scraping sound couldn’t be avoided. He did it incrementally in a bid to cause less attention to be drawn to them. Once he had managed to open the door wide enough for them to squeeze out, he peeped out to see who was around. Two guards were standing off to the left, smoking and talking. They seemed engrossed in their conversation, and so silently Jason pulled at Oriel’s hand and dragged her behind him. They rounded the corner of the building and stopped in their tracks.
Oriel gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. The masked man before them was the very tall one who had fed them bread and water before. He stood there. His eyes glinting in the darkness. Jason swallowed thickly. Fuck.
‘If you are going, you had better run very fast. It won’t take long before they realise you are missing. You must go now. And don’t look back.’ The man’s heavily accented words were just above a whisper.
Jason was dumbstruck and frozen to the spot for a few moments. He scrambled around his head for something to say. ‘B…but are you…are you going to shoot us as we run?’
The man shook his head slowly. ‘Non. Just go. Head in a straight line up there.’ He gestured off to a right hand diagonal. ‘But run like the wind, my friends. Or you will be dead very soon.’
Jason scrunched his face. ‘But why are you doing this? Why are you letting us escape?’
The man dropped his gaze to the floor. ‘I hate war. I hate fighting. I hate to see people I love dying for no reason. This has happened many times now. You came here to help. You don’t deserve to die for this. This is not your fight. Now go.’ He jerked his head in the direction he had told them to run. Jason turned to Oriel as his lip quivered. He forced a smile but fear gripped his heart. He didn’t want to die here, and he couldn’t help mistrusting this man.
He expected them to be shot as they ran like deer on a hunt, their escape turning this whole sick situation into a game, a sport that their captors would get some macabre enjoyment from. But he would rather die that way than watch as they did their worst, and so he gripped her hand.
‘Come on. Let’s go home, Ori.’
Her eyes widened, and she whispered, ‘Non! Jason, it’s a trap. It has to be a trap.’
He took her face in his hands and spoke with all the conviction he could muster. ‘Oriel, do you trust me?’ She nodded. ‘Then we have to do this. We’re running out of time. Please, take my hand and let’s go. I can’t stay here and wait for them to start hurting you. I couldn’t bear it. Please.’
With a quivering lip, she nodded. So with firm resolve, he grasped her hand in his and took off running as fast as his legs and Oriel’s would take them. Off into the night, praying a gunshot wasn’t the last thing he would ever hear.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Stevie was still feeling the after-effects of her drunken Friday night with Mollie on Sunday morning when she awoke. Instead of helping her to think positively and feel better, the night had ended with Stevie looking through old photographs, sobbing her heart out. Mollie had called her mum, and she had come over on Saturday and ended up staying over to look after her. Stevie had stayed in bed all of Saturday, seeing as she had the hangover from hell. Mollie, on the other hand, had woken bright and breezy and called a cab to take her back home, leaving her best friend in the capable hands of Dana, who fussed over her like a mother hen. It wasn’t fair that Mollie wasn’t suffering as badly.
Not fair at all.
Stevie lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking about Jason and how it felt to be held by him. She closed her eyes and remembered the many delicious times they had made love. Like a movie montage, the images rolled around her mind, taunting her with what could have been.
She thought about his lips against hers and his tongue sliding into her mouth. How he had made her feel incredible, so loved and adored. His hands and fingers stroking every sensitive inch of her body, heightening her senses, and making her tingle with pleasure. The way he caressed her breasts so reverently, pulling her nipples into his mouth, one, then the other, and then back again, as he watched her fall apart with an awe filled expression.
The look of utter adoration in his eyes as he moved inside her and kissed her forehead, cheeks, neck, and stroked her hair. The way he looked so blissful, floating in ecstasy as he came, his eyes locked on hers at the height of his own pleasure. She longed for him, ached for his touch. But knew he was so very far away, and as time went on, the prospect of seeing him again grew slimmer.
And slimmer.
The phone rang, but she couldn’t even be bothered to get up. She knew it’d be Dillon with his weekly call to report no news was good news or some other crap. He was a swinging pendulum of emotion. One day he’d call and be so positive and upbeat she felt filled with hope, and others he’d be sobbing, telling her that he was terrified they’d already killed his brother and how he wished he’d not been so stupid when he tried to kill himself.
‘How could I do that to him, Stevie? I love him. He’s my brother.’
She had lost count of the number of times she had tried to convince him everything would be okay, even though she wasn’t actually convinced hersel
f. But today she wouldn’t be doing that. Today wasn’t a good day. The last thing she needed was to be second-guessing Dillon’s fragile frame of mind when her own was so negative and equally as breakable.
Dana opened her bedroom door. ‘It’s Dillon, sweetie. You need to speak to him.’
Stevie rolled over. ‘Tell him I’m asleep.’
‘He sounds a little manic. I think you need to take the call.’
She sat up reluctantly and swung her feet over the side of the bed. ‘I’ll come downstairs.’ She followed Dana and grabbed the phone from the windowsill, scowling. It’s a wireless phone for goodness sake. Why didn’t she bring the fucking thing upstairs? She slumped onto the sofa.
She rubbed her free hand over her face. ‘Hi, Dillon. What’s up?’
‘They escaped, Stevie! They got away! They’re being checked over by medics at the moment, but they are being flown back to Heathrow on Wednesday!’ Dillon’s voice was filled with excitement and relief washed over her. Tears began to fall relentlessly from her already sore eyes. ‘We got a call from the Consulate this morning,’ he continued. When she didn’t speak he carried on again. ‘Stevie are you…are you there? Are you okay?’
Her heart pounded, trying to escape her body. Her eyes grew wide as his words sunk in. She peered up at Dana, who had covered her mouth with one hand. The other reached out for Stevie. Hot tears were sliding down her face as she realised Dillon was asking if she was okay.
She laughed through her tears. ‘Oh yes, Dillon. I’m…I’m shocked, but I’m so, so happy. So relieved. I can’t tell you how amazing this is. I thought he was gone. That…that we’d lost him. I can’t quite believe it. I’m scared I’ll wake up and find it’s all been a dream.’
‘Believe it, Stevie. It’s real. It’s happening! He’s coming home!’ His voice was high pitched and wavering, his emotions evident.
‘Oh thank God…thank goodness.’ She sobbed as she leaned on her mother, who was squeezing her free hand so tight it was going numb. She stood beside her daughter with a hand still over her mouth and tears streaming down her face.
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