Kamden knelt by the small vat of tepid water. Every inch of her hurt and her hand shook as she dipped the tattered rag in and ran it over her face, not bothering to wring it out. The brief respite was welcomed—correction, any chance she got to have a moment alone was welcomed.
They moved constantly, never staying in one place very long. Despite that, she’d noticed a pattern of how often they went back to the area she’d come to refer to as their main camp, which was where they were now. Didn’t matter where she was, each night she prayed for this to end. One way or another. These men were ruthless, the women too. They took what they wanted, killing without remorse.
Miraculously, if that’s what it could be called, she had managed to remain untouched. The leader, Sing—for a reason only he knew—had taken a shine to her and claimed her as his own. It only meant no one would touch her sexually without his permission, for it surely hadn’t stopped the beatings.
Punishment still was doled out on a daily basis. Food was minute and scarce. They did give her water but only after she hauled enough from whatever source they were near for the rest of camp.
Often her thoughts turned to her family. Her parents, Lane and Kenya, and her brother, Asante. How she missed them.
“Hurry!” Sing barked.
Her body didn’t even jump. She stared at her reflection in the water. Her hair was in desperate need of a good wash and deep conditioning treatment. Her eyes had large dark circles under them and appeared sunken. Numerous bruises marred her once smooth skin.
She sighed, dropped the rag in, and pushed to her feet, uneasy and shaky. A few deep breaths before she grabbed the container and turned towards the scar-faced man who held her future in his hands. The man who had his foot over her life pulse.
“Who’s hurt?” she asked wearily.
When she became a doctor, she never for one second believed she’d be using that knowledge in horrific conditions to merely stay alive. This was meatball surgery at its best.
“You get cleaned up. Party tonight.”
An uneasy chill skated up her spine. Had her luck finally run out? Well, if it had, at least she’d be clean.
She arched a brow and asked with contempt, “You want me to clean up with this pathetic amount of water then put on my rags again?”
Soulless black eyes narrowed, and he slid a hand though his hair, the sun glinting off the diamond in her engagement ring that he’d taken the first day.
Evan!
“Xiao-xing take you.”
“Great,” she muttered, following him out of the hut, “fuckin’ Asian Nazi.” Xiao-xing was his top female enforcer and his lover, so suffice it to say the woman was not a fan of hers. Not in the slightest.
The woman waited by a tree, armed like usual and doing her best to kill her with eyes alone. Feeling’s mutual, bitch. Xiao-xing had taken great pleasure in showing her both Missy and Evan’s bodies once animals got to them and had begun to eat them.
Without a word, she waited for the typical crack of the weapon in her back. It never arrived.
“Move,” the woman spat.
They moved to the river. That’s when it happened. The kick to her middle back sent her barreling forward into the water. She sank like a rock in the cold liquid. Hands dug into the rocks and silt at the bottom. For a brief spot of time, Kami thought about not resurfacing.
You don’t know how to give up, kiddo. You’ve never backed down from a challenge. Ever. Why are you giving up now? Fight, stay alive, and come home. Fight! Her father’s smooth deep voice echoed through her mind.
Digging deep for a final bit of fortitude to persevere, she shoved out with her arms, propelling herself back to the surface. Sputtering, she cleared the crisp water, eyes searching for the one who’d kicked her in.
Xiao-xing stood on the bank, her gaze filled with a cold malevolence that showcased her love of creating pain and her desire to inflict it upon her.
“You could have just told me to get in,” Kami said, wiping the dripping water from her face.
“You stink.”
Well, couldn’t argue about that. The daily-allotted helmet of water did little to combat the effects of sweltering jungle heat and humidity. The only time she had full access to water was before she worked on a person.
“And you’re a bitch,” she muttered, slogging through to the bank where a bar of soap and rag rested on the shore.
A quick glance told her they were the only ones there. Or so it appeared. She wasn’t fooled; there were men watching her. She took the soap with the rag out to the deepest part of the water and placed it on the flat-topped rock. Stripping, she piled her clothes up and scrubbed them as clean as she could before wringing them out and draping them on the rock. Then she turned her attention to cleaning herself.
Thrilled to be clean again, she didn’t mind pulling on her own clothes. Even wet, her attire hung off her frame, given her lack of sustainable nutrition and the stress she’d endured. It didn’t surprise her she’d lost weight.
“Now what?” she asked upon reaching the bank.
“We try to make you pretty.” A scoff. “Unlikely.”
There was a spark of anger. Apparently, the water not only cooled the pains of her injuries but also refueled her temper. She shrugged, though, and wrung out her hair before dropping the rope over her shoulder. Familiar with the routine, she took herself straight back to her pathetic excuse of a shelter only to find a few more of the camp women in there. She tensed, unsure of what to expect.
“Strip.” Xiao-xing issued the order with that ever-present hateful tone.
She didn’t want to, but something deep within her told her there was a need to conserve her extremely drained reservoir of determination, so she obediently removed her wet clothes. One girl stepped forward and handed her a towel that she accepted gratefully. After she was dry, they instructed her to sit on a wooden stool while they combed out her hair and drew it back into a high ponytail.
I feel like they’re going to pimp me out. Shifting uneasy on the rough-cut wood, Xiao-xing barked another order and the women left. Kamden could see an article of clothing that lay across a chair.
Damn, I don’t even deserve a chair, but the clothes do. Well, not her rags—they remained in a pile on the floor.
The firm grip of Xiao-xing settled upon her neck, tightening briefly before fading. She couldn’t help the cringe. In her peripheral view, she saw Xiao-xing lean close to her ear.
“Do you know what will happen to you if you ruin this for Sing?”
She had a fairly good idea. Her silence must not have been appreciated for her captor smashed the left side of her back. Stars exploded as the hard, dirt-packed floor rushed up to meet her. She gasped, blinking away tears and spots before her eyes. Pain radiated up and spiraled out from the contact point. The flame within her flickered only to fade even more. She knew she couldn’t take much more. Malnourished, beaten, and exhausted didn’t a winning combination make.
A myriad of regrets assailed her only to be wiped away when her head snapped back. Through the tears, she could make out Xiao-xing, who used her new ponytail to move her. Kami attempted for a deep breath, pulling up short and taking a few shallow pants.
Broken ribs. Another check in the con column.
“Get up.” The whispered words encased in permafrost splintered through her haze of pain.
Her head wobbled unsteadily when the taut hold on her ponytail vanished. Limbs quaked, but she found the strength to do as ordered.
Xiao-xing stared at her again, her eyes miniscule slits. Not so fresh breath streamed along her face. “You will serve the men, whatever they wish.”
“In the towel or do I put on something else?”
The ragged cotton was ripped away. “Dress.” She shoved the dress into her hand.
Slowly she managed to pull it on. It was a beautiful dress. A black short Chinese dress with dragon and phoenix embroidery. Created from brocade fabric, it had a mandarin collar and floral frog buttons. It hung to her knees, had short sleeves and a slit on each side. One she would have loved to have worn when feeling more like herself…more human. As it was, the cool material was nice against her skin. It took a bit of a struggle to zip it, but she managed.
Xiao-xing moved closer so their lips were almost touching. “I will break you.”
She dampened her dry, cracked lips. Kami ignored the part of her that was logical. “Your boyfriend won’t let you,” she sneered, pouring as much contempt and sadistic glee in as possible. “It kills you to know that. To know he protects me from the other men. That—”
Crack!
Xiao-xing smashed the butt of her gun into her jaw, sending her once again to the floor. The pain shot up from her ribs and, with a whimper, she succumbed to the swarming darkness, her blood dripping to the dirt floor and down to the collar of the dress.
αβ
Caleb swore to himself as he slipped carefully back to where he’d holed up. He’d been on the ground for six days, making an encompassing sweep of the mountain. Section by section. He had stumbled upon the remnants of some old camp. The signs were weak and nearly nonexistent, but he found them.
He scratched at his few days’ beard growth before pressing on. About two klicks from where he needed to be, a tingle shot up his spine. Immediately he froze, becoming one with the terrain.
Whoever they were, they were good. Almost created no noise as they moved through the jungle. Four of them, they spoke in hushed tones. They passed right by him, he could have reached out and touched them. The final person stopped and cast a suspicious and cautious look around, his gun ready to fire. From his prone position, Caleb could see a dark stain on the man’s green sleeveless tee.
Blood.
He’d seen enough of it to recognize it. The humidity kept it tacky and wet looking. His interest was piqued because the man himself seemed totally unharmed. Caleb watched through slitted eyes, his fingers curved around the hilt of his SP1-Marine combat knife, ready if necessary to take the man down, swift and silent.
A few terse moments passed before the group of men progressed on, leaving him alone in the sweltering heat. He wanted to get some food and rest but the opportunity to backtrack along their trail to possibly find their camp was too great.
With caution and stealth, he crept along the nearly indiscernible path left by the quartet. A quick glance at his wrist marked his position. He had ninety minutes tops of natural light left. He moved with swift effectiveness and tracked up to a bevy of in-mountain caves. Caleb lay flat against the thick limb he occupied and stared at the side through his binoculars.
If this was their hideout, it was a well-established one. Easy to defend when you could look down upon your attackers. Well protected from eyes in the sky, the caves would shield any infrared scans. He’d wondered at the start of this jaunt if he should have followed the men instead of going in the opposite direction. Now he knew he was on the right track. He just felt it within him. Immobile, he waited for the complete arrival of night. When no fires or torches lit the sky, he activated night vision and moved to the mouth of the first cave.
There was nothing in the first three he cleared. On his way to the next, he almost missed it. A faint impression in the ground of a boot print. Since it wasn’t leading away but toward the top, he cast another glance up.
There. An opening. From his earlier position, it had appeared to be a natural swell of the mountain. Not anymore. Ignoring his rumbling belly, Caleb approached, moving cautiously up the steep terrain.
His heart almost stopped when he peered in. Lying prone on the dirt floor was the woman he’d come to find. Kamden Zyanya Strong. She lay on her side, her back to him. Hands secured behind her and her ankles bound as well.
He scrambled to her side, both elated and hesitant. Lifting his NVG, he popped a soft glow stick, enough so he could see her but not bright like a flashlight. He didn’t want to scare her looking like some alien creature. Pure black rage filled him when he saw her face. Puffy and bruised. She wore shorts and a tee shirt that had definitely seen better days. Her eyes never opened. Why they tied her he had no idea, for in her condition she surely wasn’t going to be going anywhere fast. Or on her own.
With a deep ragged breath, he extended a hand—one that shook slightly—and touched her shoulder. Her body that had been so still flinched instantly.
“Kami,” he spoke in a sotto voice. “It’s okay, Kami.”
Her eyes opened, bloodshot and full of disbelief. She blinked a few times before her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“Caleb?”
The sound of her voice was the most beautiful thing in the galaxy to him. There was nothing that could compare to it. He sliced through the ropes confining her as if they were created from butter.
“I’m right here.”
“Go,” she mumbled. “They’ll be back.” A sob. “They always come back.”
“I’ll be damned if I leave you here, Kami. We’re all going home. Where’s Missy?”
Her lids dropped and a tear cut a swath along her dirty cheek. “Dead. They’re both dead.”
“Both?” He frowned. “Who else was with you?”
“Evan.” Her voice was so weak he could barely hear her.
A myriad of responses teased the tip of his tongue. He kept them all inside. Now was neither the time nor the place to offer condolences. First order of business was to get out.
“What are your injuries?” he asked, unable to refrain from bushing a tendril of hair from her face.
“Broken ribs, a couple fractured,” she said, pushing slow into a sitting position, “to name a few. I have a dislocated shoulder too.”
He reined in his fury. “Drink,” he ordered, putting the canteen to her lips. She needed an IV in her and fast.
Her throat, with more bruising, moved as she drank. When he deemed she’d had enough, he took it away. Her eyes told of her longing for more but she didn’t say a word. It killed him to see her like this.
“Let’s go.”
“Where? There’s nowhere to go, Caleb,” she forced through split lips. There was no hope in her tone, just the sad acceptance of how things now were.
“Move,” he put into his command the tone he used with men below him in the Corps.
Caleb watched as she got to her feet shaking with exhaustion, her face etched in pain. But also determination. He buried the light in his pocket along with the ropes and reengaged the NVG’s. Scanning the path down from this small cave, he breathed a sigh of relief to find it void of any other personnel.
There were plenty of questions he had for her but realized she barely held on. And for the first part he needed her help.
“I’m going to carry you down, Kami. You’ll have to hold on as best you can.” He spoke gently even as he gathered her up, being as mindful as he could about her injuries.
“No,” she mumbled.
“I wasn’t asking for permission, Kami. Hold yourself as still as possible.” He exited the cave and peered back in. His boot prints mixed with the others, and unless they studied them intently, they’d not realize they were different. Hopefully. He had the rope with him as well, so it would appear she’d vanished or…hadn’t been delivered there to begin with.
The trip down was slow and tedious. He had to tune out her slight moans of discomfort. Her skin, hot and clammy, did little to set him at ease. The facts were right there in front of him. Kami hadn’t had an easy time of it.
He stayed on their faint trail as long as he could. Only when he had to did he branch off. He sighed in relief when he came upon his camp. Kami still in his embrace, he passed beneath the netting that kept him even more hidden than relying solely on the thick foliage and terrain.
With the utmost care, he laid her on his bed after assuring there were no poisonous snakes there. Her breaths came short and fast. His world, one of green, focused on her battered face. He ground his jaw to stay in control of volatile emotions.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispered. Her face contorted in fear and his heart constricted. “I’ll be right back, Kami. Stay quiet.” She reached out in the dark as if seeking him, only to lower her arm back.
“Okay.”
Caleb made short work of ensuring there were no tracks leading back to where he and Kami hid. The trek out would be a hellish one and Kami needed fluids and rest. One day was all he could afford to give her. It would have to be enough.
He glanced to the south were the men had gone. A deep urge to track and kill them all rose sharp and swift. Until he remembered Kami wasn’t totally in the clear. He had to protect her. Keep her safe. Return her home to her loved ones.
“Kami?” he questioned once back with her.
“He said you’d come for me,” she uttered, her words slurred and difficult to understand.
There wasn’t anywhere in this world he wouldn’t go for her. “Who said?” There was no answer. He crouched closer to her. “Who said that, Kami?”
“Evan.”
That was her last word for she drifted away, her body giving into the exhaustion and pain owing it.
Caleb dug for the first aid kit and got to work while Kami lay suspended between unconsciousness and sleep. Once the IV was in, he removed her broken-down footwear and growled in anger. Her feet had open cuts, healed ones, and scars which crisscrossed the soles of her feet.
“Oh, baby.”
He cleaned them quick and stored the wipes in an airtight bag so the smell wouldn’t be detectable on the air. Using water and a cloth, he began working on her legs. Even with the green tint the NVG’s provided him, she still affected him.
Jeez, man. She’s half-dead and you’re lusting after her.
After the mental reprimand, he got back to it. He wiped down her legs, arms, and belly. He left her in her clothes despite their condition. One final check and he settled down for the night. Never did he sink into total slumber; he remained alert for the sounds of anyone approaching while allowing his body to get some rest.
He woke when the sun began to cut through the dense canopy. After a stretch and a brief trip to relieve himself, he returned to find Kami still out. In morning’s soft glow, he took another opportunity to check her over.
Abundant bruises, large bags under her eyes, and her entire body seemed much thinner than when he’d seen her last. He couldn’t help it, he had to touch her. Settling down by her head, he dragged a hand along the side of her face. A soft touch but one he had to experience. Almost as he needed to reassure himself she was actually there.
Her eyes lifted slowly, confusion and wariness filling them along with more than a healthy dose of fear.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said.
“Caleb?”
The single word was raspy but there.
“I’m here.”
“Where…how?” Her eyes welled up with tears. “You shouldn’t have come.”
He shook his head. “Don’t talk crazy. Listen to me, Kami. I don’t know when they’ll find you gone. Hell, they could know already. You’re too weak to move far right now so we’re resting until dark, then we’re getting you out of this hellhole.”
So many questions warred in her eyes. She was unsure of what to ask first. He could see that like the skin on the back of his own hand. So he handled it.
“I need you to rest as much as you can and stay quiet.”
She glanced at the IV he had in her arm and back to him. As clear as day, he could see more reality of what she’d gone through racing to the surface, cracking the iron defense she’d erected in order to merely survive. Again, the tears gathered up. This time however, they broke free of the dam containing them.
Giving her a moment to regain her composure, he went to his bag and withdrew his other shirt. Fingers tight in the olive material, he also took a second. There was so much he wanted to say. Stay focused. Get out first. Talk second.
“Here, this is clean.”
Kami remained mute as a mouse and struggled to a seated position. He glanced at her then to the IV.
“Cut it off,” she muttered.
Knife in hand, he did just that. The dirty and torn remainder of her shirt fell away. He was faced with not only breasts he’d had more than one fantasy about, but also the bruising and cuts. Her midsection was an ugly whirling mass of purples, greens, and blacks.
“Do you want me to wrap your ribs?” he asked, ensuring his tone was bland.
“Please.”
“I’ll put your shoulder back as well.” He moved over her outstretched legs and sank down, not sitting on her but straddling. Her eyes betrayed her moment of fear. He wanted to assure her he would never hurt her, but he didn’t. She’d gone through hell and him continuing to point it out was uncalled for.
He felt for the dislocation and asked, “Ready?”
Kami buried her face in his shirt and held on with her other arm. “Yes,” her mumbled reply came.
God forgive me for hurting her. “On three. One, two—”
Wrench!
He put it back in. Kami, bless her, gave a sharp hiss of discomfort but never cried out, her body tight to his. Caleb cupped the back of her head and held her. He could feel the tears soaking his shirt. Her entire body shook, and he brought his other arm around to hold her.
Eyes closed, he ignored the fact her upper body—her naked upper body—pressed into him. Ignored her full breasts flush against him. When the shaking subsided, he put some distance between them. Her eyes, full of sorrow, met his.
“Let me bandage your ribs then we’ll get the shirt on you.”
When he grabbed the wrap, he took a few deep breaths and found some composure. Then he faced her again and got to work. He paused before her breasts. Oh, the things he longed to do to them. Large dark nipples taunted him, full globes begged for his hands to cup, kiss, lave, and make love to.
“Bind them.”
“What?” He snapped his eyes to her.
“My breasts, bind them.”
He gulped, said a prayer, and did as she commanded. Breasts like this should never be bound.