This woman looked subjugated and beaten, though she was anything but. Every word out of her mouth was for the benefit of her captors. She was acting—and she was absolutely glorious.
He hated the very slight shame he saw in her eyes. If she thought he was disgusted by her condition, she was dead wrong. No one had ever impressed him more than Sierra did right at that moment. When they’d first met, he’d thought she was too trusting and innocent. She’d only been in Afghanistan a short time, and she’d been so excited to serve her country, even if it was just as a food contractor for the military.
The woman in front of him had lost her cloak of naiveté and in its place was a mantle of steel.
Grover knew it was ten kinds of fucked up, but he was so much more attracted to this woman than the almost gullible one he’d initially met. Which was saying something, because he’d been plenty interested in that Sierra as well, all those months ago.
Her eyes filled with tears as she continued begging the men to leave her alone. To let her return to her cell. To please not hurt her.
Before the men started in on their torture, a fourth person approached, walking down the narrow and uneven cave path.
Shahzada.
Grover’s lip curled involuntarily.
He did recognize the man, now that Sierra had told him who he was. He’d been arrogant and annoying when Grover saw him in the chow hall over a year ago, and nothing had seemed to change.
The leader of the Taliban’s organization in this part of the country stopped in front of his cell, completely ignoring Sierra as she carried on behind him.
“Welcome back to my country,” Shahzada said.
“Not much of a welcome,” Grover commented.
The man smirked.
“And…it’s good to see you again,” Grover said.
“So, you figured it out,” Shahzada said.
“That you’re Muhammad, one of the translators the Army trusted and hired? That you have almost free rein on the military post and you’ve been kidnapping contractors for a year now? Yeah, I figured it out.” Grover didn’t give him a chance to speak. “I also figured out that you’re a fucking coward. You didn’t kidnap soldiers, because you knew you were no match for us. You could only handle untrained men and women. You’re pathetic,” he sneered, wanting to turn the man’s ire on him and away from Sierra, if possible.
As he’d hoped, Shahzada’s face turned red. “You will regret those words,” he said in a deadly tone.
Grover opened his mouth in a huge fake yawn. “Whatever,” he said after a moment, doing his best to look bored.
Shahzada growled and turned his back on Grover. Without hesitation, he grabbed a long, thick stick from the man nearest Sierra and slammed it down onto her thighs.
Grover wanted to leap up from his spot on the dusty ground, where he’d sat in a show of indifference when Shahzada had joined them. He kept himself still. Barely.
Sierra howled so loudly, it hurt his ears, but Grover kept his face impassive and stoic.
With every blow to her body, Sierra cried harder for mercy. If she hadn’t warned him last night, Grover might’ve added his own pleas for them to stop. It took everything in him to remain where he was.
Objectively, he could see that Shahzada wasn’t doing much more than causing superficial bruises. He wasn’t breaking her skin, which told him a little of the level of pain she was enduring, and none of the blows were designed to kill. She’d been right—this was a show for Grover’s benefit. But that certainly didn’t mean he wanted to watch her being abused.
After only a few minutes, Shahzada threw down the stick and scowled at her. She had tears streaming down her face and she hadn’t stopped begging.
“So pathetic,” Shahzada sneered. “I am tired of this.” He turned to look at Grover. “I want him.”
Grover knew what that look in the man’s eyes meant. He was in for another long, painful session at his hands. But if it meant he stopped beating Sierra, he’d willingly take it.
Two of the men hauled Sierra to her feet—she still hadn’t stopped wailing—and threw her back into her cell. Grover breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he heard the lock clicking into place once more.
Her beating was over. His pain was just about to start.
Shahzada grinned as his men began working on the lock keeping his cell closed. “I’ve been practicing on all those ‘untrained men and women.’ I’ve learned much about what the human body can endure before it breaks. I’m looking forward to this.”
Grover took a deep breath. He could handle anything this asshole and his cronies dished out. Trigger and the rest of his team would be here soon. He just had to keep Shahzada’s attention on himself and off Sierra, and stay alive in the meantime.
Instead of putting him on the chair where Sierra had just been sitting, Grover was dragged down the dark path, away from the cells. He knew that wasn’t a good sign. He could take a beating, but if they had electric torture set up somewhere in the caves, or any other extreme measures in mind, things could be significantly more difficult.
Before blanking his mind, he had the brief and grateful thought that he was glad Sierra wouldn’t have to watch him be tortured. She’d been through enough. The last thing he wanted was to add to her trauma.
Come on, Trigger. Get your ass over here and find us.
Sierra’s tears stopped the second her captors’ backs were turned. She’d gotten very good at crying on cue. Her thighs hurt, but it wasn’t nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. Just as she’d told Grover, the more she cried and begged, the sooner her beatings were over. Shahzada and his followers were predictable as hell. She’d perversely enjoyed manipulating them in the past, taking her victories where she could and feeling like she’d gotten something over on them. But today, all she felt was dread.
Grover hadn’t said a word when Shahzada was hitting her, which she was grateful for. She had a feeling for a man like him, standing by and doing nothing while a woman was being abused was a form of torture all in itself. But he’d taken her words last night to heart, which she appreciated.
She hadn’t wanted him to see her though. Sierra knew she looked rough.
Right…that was an understatement. She wasn’t able to wear her pants anymore because they wouldn’t stay up, and she had no belt or anything to keep them around her waist. She’d lost so much weight, she was a mere shadow of her former self. Her period had stopped a long time ago, and as much as she tried to keep up the strength in her muscles by stretching and walking around her cell, she knew she had little stamina.
Then there was her hair.
She used to be so proud of her long auburn locks, her best feature for sure. After weeks in captivity, it became more a liability than anything. Sierra felt bugs crawling in her hair in the middle of the night, and it was so filthy and dirty, it made her cringe every time a strand touched her face. Not to mention, her captors frequently used it as a means to haul her around.
In the end, she’d come up with a simple plan. Every time her captors tortured her, she’d begged them not to touch her hair. She’d get frantic when they did, crying and carrying on. It took a few weeks, but finally they’d used her hair itself as a means of torture, shaving it off. They’d held her down, and she’d fought like a wildcat as they’d used first a knife to hack off the strands, then an old, dull electric razor to give her a buzz cut.