Page 12 of Enthrall Shadows
“Come sit down.” He led me toward a couch.
My spinning head was making me feel nauseous.
I slumped on the sofa. “This is all very nice.”
A glass of water appeared before me. I took it, swallowing the refreshing drink, only now realizing my thirst.
Richard eased the glass out of my hand and lifted my feet up, tipping me over on my side and forcing me to lie on the couch.
“Rest.” He dragged a throw over my body. “I’ll come back for you.”
I closed my eyes, shutting out the light, the world.
Shutting outher.
The door opened and closed.
I felt myself drifting off in a haze.
A dark room.
I could hear yelling, the language Pashto. Another man screamed at me in Farsi.
I am the man of the hour. The focus of their hate.
Starved.
Weak.
Fatigued.
The scent of filth and sweat—mine.
I tasted blood from my cut lip.
Blurred vision, but I had memorized every fissure of these walls of captivity. Every scratch left by previous prisoners. Those who’d left their mark on each brick. Some had signed their names in the hope that loved ones might find out what had happened to them.
This. This is what had happened to them.
I forced my swollen eyelids to open.
“Any chance I can get an upgrade?” I asked in French to spite them.
Another strike to my face.
Strange, how you once had everything a man could want and yet it slipped away.
How long had I been a captive? Three weeks?
Death’s stench filled my nostrils.
I’m never getting out of here.
Isprang awake, shaken from my nightmare.
Dragging air into my lungs, I shoved a throw off me and sat up straight as the stark memories began to fade.
Overwhelming relief flooded my senses. I wasn’tthere,in that fucking cell.
