Page 36 of Savagely Yours
“What the fuck is this?” Dez spat.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly on fire. The room spun, but I blinked until I no longer felt like I was standing on a paddleboard in the middle of rocky waters.
“One of you better answer me. Whatthe fuckis going on here?”
As upset as I was with the differences in our circumstances, Dez’s presence brought an overwhelming instant sense of calm. While I’d gotten to know the people here, and we’d bonded through our suffering, Dez and I had history.
We were friends once upon a time.
This man used to be my rock, my anchor.
He released Jeremy’s neck, his eyes following as Jeremy fell to his knees, coughing. “You lying sack of shit,” he hissed. “You told me you didn’t know where Tapley was. I talked to youtoday,and you still told me you didn’t know where she was. Now, I won’t ask a third time, so one of you needs to start explaining why the hell the two of you were alone, back here, whispering. And, just so you’re both aware, whatever the fuck you were meeting up about, this is the last time that’s gonna happen.”
“Why were you looking for me?” I asked.
His head snapped around. His gaze sliced through mine. “Tapley, you can’t be serious.”
That uniform brought its own form of trauma. The soldiers in black were some of the most dangerous, the most insidious.
They weren’t evil.
They were empty.
Evil had an inverted moral compass, but the empty were dead inside. Their purpose was to follow orders in hopes that following orders would bring a semblance of meaning to their lives. Evil gloated over a kill. Empty stepped over mounds of dead bodies and kept going, unfazed, under the command of an authority figure, no matter how morbid the figure’s perversions.
According to Ana, none of the Class One Elites had families, and they barely had friends. They were all former Special Operations Forces—SEALs, Green Berets, Pararescue, MARSOC. However, not every former SpecOps member was a Class One Elite. As it stood,Elitewas synonymous withsolitary.
A single woman was harder to control.
A single man, however, was usually the opposite.
“If you want the truth, Jeremy and I meet up regularly,” I said. “It’s not something I’m proud of, but as you can see,” I motioned to myself, “I drew the short straw with where I ended up. He has access to resources. So, I exchange…services for resources.”
“I’m sorry?” He walked closer until he was right up on me. “I don’t think I heard you correctly. What services for what resources?”
“Food, medicine.”
“What services,Tapley.”
Although I was now fighting back, I wasn’t the same Larke Tapley. Having my rights snatched away stripped me down to the studs. It took me back to the little girl I’d become after Ilearned what death was and how it applied to my older sister, who’d been my best friend.
Federal prosecutor Larke adored this man.
Lovedhim.
But I didn’t know where to find her, and a part of me was afraid to go searching only to be presented with a corpse.
“Tapley, you better start talking before I lose my shit. I spent the last three fucking weeks scouring every square inch of this piece of shit hellhole looking for you. Whether you’re safe or healthy or alive? It’s the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about the nights I manage to get a few hours of sleep. So, if you’re trying to tell me that you spent all that time exchanging your precious body for…” He frowned and angled his head. “What’s wrong?”
“Finish what you were saying.”
He raised the back of his hand to my neck, moved it to my forehead, and thumbed sweat from the space between my eyebrows.
The bass left his voice, and the clipped, angry cadence disappeared. “Tapley? Sweetheart, are you…sick?”
These days, it was hard to tell the difference between illness and the grind of my new life. During the day, my symptoms waned, but it was like my body was still on smartphone time. Like clockwork, my aches and fevers returned as soon as evening fell. Today, they seemed to be coming back a little early.
The radio at his hip crackled:
