Page 7 of Cara
You should have stayed behind when he told you to.
When he told you not to approach Thomas, you should have fucking listened.
So many wrongs.
Mine.Iruined our chances. I could have stayed silent like a good wife, fed him when he got home, and borne his children when my parents told me to instead of rebelling like I always have. I should’ve swallowed my pride and fallen in line like the other women in my family have done for generations.
To be different, to go against the grain and strive for a future without them, I have suffered more than any of them.Hehas suffered more than any of them.
They’re going to hurt you.
My eyes close, hearing the words I cried to him as I left him in that hell, picturing him in pain, imagining the punishments they’re waging upon him at this very moment. My cruel mind shows me the worst it can fathom until I’m heaving, so terrified that I somehow manage to convince myself Arturo Marcello, the devil himself, will somehow be merciful. I force myself to breathe in and out so I don’t ruin the carpet underneath me.
You’re in Spain.
Madrid.
Alone.
On the run.
Your life will never be the same again.
Everything you dreamt of, you got.
Was it worth it?
Pushing my knees up to my chin, I drop my head down.
No… it wasn’t.
Xavier
The record time I was able to hold my breath underwater was three minutes. Nearly four when I wasn’t under duress. I was twenty-six. I don’t think I can last half as long now, pushing thirty.
The hand dragging my head deeper into the basin of water digs its fingers into my skull to maintain a tight grip. Enough time has passed that my practiced control is quickly unraveling into something else.
Itburns. A white-hot iron pressed to all sides of my throat, traveling down into the rest of me.
Don’t breathe.
No matter how tired you are, don’t do it.
My bound hands, forced tight against my back, induce the feeling of entrapment—a form of torture itself to be unable to save yourself when your body is draining oxygen.
The walls are closing in.
Arturo’s order is muffled, distorted in the sloshing pool of water. “That’s enough.”
My head is ripped from the depths, swung back to face the revolting bastard who has a fistful of my hair in his grasp.
Dario blanches at my directness, deflecting his gaze downward as I heave, wheezing sounds exiting my throat like a broken machine.
“Tell me where you’ve sent the girl.”
Once the room stops spinning, my eyes sear through my father.
The Russian trials repeat themselves like mantras in my weary brain.Face your opponent. Lower your heart rate. Still your mind and remove the pain. Replace it with hatred.
