She’d cried hysterically and put on a show they’d likely never forget. Her captors laughed and jeered throughout, finally leaving her cell as Sierra wailed, slowly climbing to her knees to sob over a pile of chopped-off locks.
They’d done exactly what she’d wanted. Sierra felt so much better without her grimy hair, which had begun to form heavy dreads that pulled on her scalp. She felt lighter, cleaner. The latter was a joke, really, since she hadn’t been clean since she’d taken her last shower on the base the night she was kidnapped. But still, the relief was immense—and the incident confirmed how easily her captors could be influenced.
Twice since, they’d held her down to shave her head, and each time she’d repeated her performance…kicking and fighting and begging them to leave her alone. And God help her, it felt good to manipulate her captors, even in small ways. Though, she knew they hadn’t been trying to cut her hair evenly. What remained was patches of varying lengths, and she could only imagine how horrible it looked. While it felt so much better shaved, Sierra knew she had to look like a freak.
And as vain and silly as it was, she hated that Grover had seen her that way.
She knew it would be inevitable. That if he was right, and his team would eventually show up, he’d see her sooner or later, but it still depressed her.
The minutes ticked by, though Sierra actually had no clue how long she’d sat in her cell, waiting impatiently for Grover’s return. Praying that he would return, Shahzada usually kept captors alive for a while, working them over frequently before they disappeared. He could only hope he’d do the same with Grover.
The second she heard voices coming toward her, she tensed. She knew better than to leap up and grab onto the bars of her cell, but oh how she wanted to. The lights their captors carried weren’t the brightest, but they put off enough of a glow for her to see Grover.
He was barely able to walk, even with men on either side of him, holding onto his arms. He stumbled over his feet as they dragged in the dirt. Shahzada was nowhere to be seen, but the other men were grinning as if they’d just had the time of their lives.
Grover now wore nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, and she could see dark areas on his legs and torso. Blood. His face was a bloody mess as well. He’d obviously been hit repeatedly, and it made Sierra’s anger bubble under her skin, though she kept quiet and didn’t say a word as their captors opened the cell and threw Grover inside.
They turned around and left without a sound, and it wasn’t until she and Grover were once again alone, in the pitch darkness, that she left her spot against the far wall of her cell. Sierra crawled over to the other side and lay down. She reached her hand and arm between the bars, bending her elbow. The position was uncomfortable, but if Grover moved closer, she knew she’d be able to touch him. And she needed that more than she’d ever needed anything, ever.
“Grover?”
He grunted.
“Scoot over here. Toward my voice. My hand is through the bars, I should be able to touch you if you get close enough.”
She heard slow movement in the cell next to hers and held her breath as he came closer. She jerked at the first touch of his fingers against hers, then grabbed hold when his hand brushed hers a second time. She could feel the dirt from the floor on her own skin, and wetness on Grover’s, which she knew was probably blood. But none of that mattered. He was alive, and warm, and she could feel his pulse hammering in his wrist.
She wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t want to ask what happened; she already knew it was bad. Sierra thought back to everything she’d been through in the last year, and knew he’d probably suffered through as much—or more—as she had in the past.
“I’m okay,” Grover said softly.
His words were slightly garbled, and Sierra squeezed his hand. “You kinda sound a little like your namesake right now.”
He chuckled lightly, and the sound ran up her spine and curled around her heart. She wracked her brain to think of something to talk about, anything that might take his mind off the pain. “Did my hair look as bad as it feels?”
“No.”
She assumed he was bullshitting her. Regardless, for the next fifteen minutes, she quietly told him the story of how she’d manipulated her captors until they actually thought it had been their idea to cut it. “I know it looks awful, that I have to look terrible, but it feels so much better this way.”
“Smart,” Grover said.
“If it makes you feel better, they’ll probably leave you alone for a few days now. They like us to be relatively healthy and strong before they try to break us again.”
Grover grunted.
“So that will give your team more time to get here.”
She heard him mumble something under his breath.
“What can I do to help?” She felt useless just lying there. Holding his hand didn’t feel like nearly enough.
“You’re doing it,” he replied. Then he asked, “Did they do this to you?”
“No,” Sierra said guiltily. “When they took me, some of Shahzada’s followers hadn’t ever tortured anyone before. I was practice. At least, that’s what I was told. They did really awful stuff, especially the waterboarding. But they didn’t usually draw blood. Maybe it’s because I’m a woman. Or maybe because I’m not a soldier and had no real useful information. I don’t know. But I feel guilty that they seem to have gone so light on me, comparatively.”
“Don’t,” Grover said. “They took your freedom. That’s bad enough.”
“I guess. Did you do what I told you?” she couldn’t help but ask. “Did you tell them what they wanted to know?”
“Didn’t ask anything,” Grover said. “Just beat on me. Shahzada especially.”
“Assholes,” she muttered, the hate easy to hear in her voice. “He’s jealous of you. Probably remembers how much your team was respected. From the little I’ve overheard in the last year…he seems pissed he hasn’t been able to get a better foothold in the Taliban network and is taking it out on his captives. I think he wants to move up faster, but he’s kidnapping the wrong people to make that happen.”
Grover grunted.
“I’m not saying his followers are good men, but they aren’t as bloodthirsty as Shahzada. They have families. Wives and children. I get the impression they like the idea of climbing the ranks, but aren’t willing to be as violent as Shahzada to get there.”
“Still gonna die.”
Sierra nodded. “I know. And I don’t feel bad about it. Not at all. Their fate was sealed when they sided with Shahzada.”
Grover didn’t reply, and after several long seconds, she felt his hand go lax in hers.
Sierra didn’t let go. She knew her arm would eventually fall asleep from the awkward position, but she didn’t care. She needed to keep this connection with Grover. She felt guilty that he’d been hurt so badly. Not once in the last year had she been tortured as heavily as Grover obviously was today.
She ran her thumb over the back of his hand. She’d have to let go eventually. Go back to the other side of her cell so when their captors hopefully returned with food in the morning, they wouldn’t know she and Grover had connected. If they did, Shahzada would certainly use that against them.