When my tears have slowed to a trickle, he gently pushes me aside and stands. “You know—” He sounds thoughtful. I can hear the sound of something grinding, feel the faint vibrations through the air as he pushes. “There’s a solid three inches.”
I swipe my cheeks. “I’m not actually a tooth fairy.”
“No, but you’re slender. I felt it just now. Small boned. Slim.”
“I still won’t fit.”
“Maybe. I might be able to pull the iron. I noticed that the first time I explored here, that I could pull it out of place another few inches, but it didn’t matter because I couldn’t fit through.”
It doesn’t sound like enough, but hope blooms like wildflowers in a meadow. Irrepressible. And abundant. “Do you really think it might work?”
“Maybe.” His voice comes over a faint grinding that must be him working at the wood. “And I can chip away some of this rotted stuff to make more room. It would probably hurt you. No, I won’t lie. It definitely will hurt you. Might even break a rib to get out. Understand?”
“I understand,” I say, almost bouncing with excitement.
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“It means I can get out. It means we can escape.”
“Not me, sweetheart. Only you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
North
Her breath catches, and I wish I could comfort her worry away. I wish I could be the white knight to save her from this. Instead I’m the dying boy in her story.
I scrape away the rotting wood, using my hand like a bear paw. It’s tearing my palm to shit, but it doesn’t matter. If I can save her, maybe this whole fucking thing will be worth it. Steal some diamonds, they said. It will be easy, they said. And it was. That’s the hell of it. Stealing the diamonds was easy enough. Keeping them. That’s the hard part.
My head spins, and I have to force myself to remain standing.
How big does the space need to be? I put my hand on her, and she goes abruptly still, like a rabbit caught in the mouth of a wolf. I suppose that’s what we are—prey and predator.
I can almost wrap my hands fully around her waist. Not quite.
This is the thinnest space on her body. It’s also the most tender. The iron will rip her soft skin. It will tear her tendons and muscles. Damage her organs.
It’s her only chance of escape.
I could never have fit through this space. Even half-starved I’ve got leftover muscle. Big bones. The kind of body that can’t fit through a hole in the wall, no matter how much it breaks.
“You ready?”
Her voice shakes. “I’m ready.”
“Brave girl. You start going through. I’ll push you the rest of the way.”
An audible swallow. “Okay.”
“Once you’re out, you head up the stairs. Go left down the hallway. Down another flight of stairs. That’ll take you to the back, to the entrance they don’t use. Once you hit the forest, you run like the fucking wind. Don’t stop for anything, understand? No matter how much it hurts.”
“Up the stairs. Left down the hallway. Down the stairs. Got it.”
I’m close enough to feel her breath, faint and warm on my shoulder. It’s fast. She’s hyping herself up. Or hyperventilating. “If you get to safety—” I force myself to stop. My eyes close. This woman didn’t ask to be involved with criminals. She sure as hell didn’t ask to get locked up with me. “When you get to safety, call Liam North.”
“Who’s that?”
“My brother.” I give her his private phone number and email address.
Her eyes go wide. “Will he be able to help you?”
“Yes.” Probably not. I’m going to die in this hellhole in the north of France. At least this way my brothers will know what happened to me.
She lifts her head to look at me. I can see the reflection in her eyes. “You’re lying to me.”
I have no reason to stop myself. No kindness or humanity left anywhere inside. I bend my head and brush my lips against hers. It’s a light kiss. Light enough that she can jerk away. Slap me. Call me an animal. Instead she freezes again, the little rabbit. She holds very still so I can do it again. And again. I nudge apart her lips. I’m covered in dirt and blood, the most elemental of things. There was nothing beautiful in this hellhole until she came. She turns away, and clean wisps of her hair tickle my cheek. I breathe in deep—smelling warmth and woman, wondering if she’s the last bit of heaven I’ll ever hold.
She contorts her body into almost a sitting position, squeezing her waist into the notch. I hear her suck in a breath, feel her brace herself against the pain.
It’s not enough. The human body has mechanisms to protect itself. It would be like throwing herself into a fire, forcing her body through this too-small place, breaking herself to fit. That’s why it’s my job. I’m the one who places a gentle kiss on her forehead—before I take a good, hard hold of her shoulder and hip. And push.
A cry of pain abruptly ends.
She’s halfway through, and I’m not sure she can make it all the way through. What if it’s too small? What if I truly break her? Her ribs could break and shatter. They could pierce her lungs. She could die trapped in these iron bars. She could die by my hands.
I have killed a lot of people in my lifetime. Never a woman.
She sobs through the next words. “Finish it.”
Taking hold of the iron, I pull with every ounce of strength. It takes more willpower to ignore the animal groan she makes. My muscles tremble with the force of keeping the iron moved even an inch. I use my other hand to push her through. She tumbles to the stone on the other side, making a keening sound. Each high-pitched note is like a knife to my stomach.
“Are you okay?” I ask, which is a stupid question. Will you live? I’m not sure she even knows the answer. “Holland. You’re out. You have to get up now. You have to go.”
There’s panting from the floor. “It hurts.”
I force my voice to remain even. Don’t panic. At least not while she’s still here. “You probably bruised a few ribs. Maybe broke them. You can still walk. Understand?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I listen to her stand and move cautiously up the stairs. A sliver of light blinds me, and then the door closes again. Shock registers first, even before recognition. That profile. Slimmed of the rounded edges of youth. Made stark from even a few hours of terror.
It’s her. The girl from all those years ago.
Shock wrenches my bones. What the hell? What the hell?
She was here all along.
And now she’s gone.
“Voyages sur,” I whisper. “Safe travels, Holly.”
How did she end up here? Except I know. Didn’t I? Damn me to hell, I know how it happened. I know why it happened. And it’s my fault that she was held captive.
Every second that goes by I imagine her running down the stairs, running through the forest. Running all the way to safety. Only fifteen minutes go by before Adam comes downstairs. It’s still pitch-black. Too dark for him to see that she’s not here.
“Hello, ma petite.”
I need to distract him. “What the hell do you want with her, Bisset?”