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“SHE’S DOWN IN THE CELLAR,” a harsh male voice said, and Sarah heard heavy footsteps coming her way. A woman began talking in Spanish, mixed in with the man’s voice, and she strained, trying to catch any words she understood.
Sunlight was coming in through a crack in the wall up near the ceiling, and she realized she’d slept straight through the night. Her best guess was that it was now sometime Monday morning.
Monday.
As in two whole days after her wedding. She should’ve been jetting off on the tropical honeymoon of a lifetime today with Ryan. She should’ve been sitting on an airplane with him at her side.
Would Ryan even know she’d been taken out of the country?
Would he ever be able to find her?
He commanded missions all over the world, but they needed information to go off of. She hadn’t left any clues behind, hadn’t given him any indication something was wrong. She’d just been taken.
Sarah pushed herself up into a sitting position, her muscles weak and aching. Her wrists were still raw from when they’d been bound the first several hours after her kidnapping.
Voices continued talking in Spanish just outside. A key jostled in the door, and then it was opening.
A dim light was flicked on, and Sarah did a double-take as an older Mexican woman walked in, letting the door shut behind her. The heavy footsteps walked off in the direction they’d come. Confused, Sarah watched as the woman approached her carrying a tray of food.
Sarah had been so out of it last night, she hadn’t even searched the room for a light switch or unlocked door. Not that she would’ve gotten far.
“Eat,” the woman admonished her, seeming to be in a hurry as she stepped back from the tray she’d placed on the cold ground. She impatiently watched, the wrinkles on her creased face deepening.
Baffled, Sarah simply stared at her a moment. Looking down at her hands, she realized she wasn’t tied up. “You have to help me!” she pleaded, trying to stand up. “They kidnapped me! I’m an American citizen. I don’t belong here!” She stuttered a few useless words in Spanish, knowing the older woman likely didn’t understand anything that she was saying.
The woman crossed her arms, frowning, before taking rapidly in Spanish again. She waved her hands in the air, gesticulating, and then pointed at the tray.
“Eat and ready! Must get ready.”
Sarah glanced at the door, wondering what she was supposed to get ready for. Was Juan coming back? The buyer he’d mentioned? Whatever male voice she’d heard moments ago?
Glancing down at the food, she hesitated. They’d probably drugged this, too. If they knocked her out again, God knows where they’d take her. What they’d do to her. Maybe she should try to fight this woman—hold her hostage until someone came back. But what could she use as a weapon? Maybe she could knock her out with the tray if she was lucky, but that wouldn’t exactly threaten her life.
Muttering a string of words, the woman turned and started walking to the door.
“Wait, please!” Sarah said, finally getting to her feet. “I have to get out of here—don’t let them hurt me.”
The woman marched back to her and began talking again, grabbing hold of Sarah’s huge sweatshirt and looking at it in disdain. She gestured at Sarah’s face and no-doubt dirty hair. “Need bath. And dress. Must wear dress.”
“I don’t have a dress!” Sarah exclaimed, beginning to get frustrated. What on Earth was this woman talking about? Sarah grabbed onto her arm, pleading, and the woman shooed her away, talking again in Spanish.
Tears smarted her eyes as she saw the woman turning to leave, muttering to herself. Sarah’s gaze fell to the tray on the ground again—there was a metal cup of water she was too afraid to drink and a greasy looking tortilla.
That was probably the safest bet as it appeared cooked—but what if they’d slipped drugs inside of it somehow? They could’ve crushed up something and used it to make them—or would the heat from cooking prevent something like that?
The door opened as the older woman began to leave.
“Wait!” Sarah pleaded.
The door slammed shut as the woman walked into the hallway, and Sarah thought she heard someone else cry out. Were other women being held in this goddamn cellar?
Sinking to the ground, she took a small bite of tortilla. Surprisingly, her stomach rumbled. She actually was hungry. If she ate too quickly, she’d probably get sick though. She hadn’t eaten anything in nearly two days.
She took another small bite but then jumped as she heard a woman’s scream from outside her door, followed by a thumping sound.
“Hello!” she called out.
A male voice shouted in Spanish, and Sarah quickly quieted. Although she wanted the other woman to know she was here, she didn’t want to anger her captors.
She ate a little more, getting thirstier as she did. The cup of water would be a horrible idea though—she’d probably end up sick and even more dehydrated after that. She couldn’t survive without any fluids forever though.
Sinking to the ground, she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head for a moment. She needed to think. To decide her options given the shitty situation she was in. Fight the woman when she came back? Get changed and ready for whatever the woman was muttering about?
They probably had to clean her up to sell her off. Wasn’t that how these things worked?
Ryan had absolutely no idea where she was. She didn’t know who these men were or if Juan was even around here. And Ryan and Patrick didn’t even know who Juan was—she hadn’t mentioned him. She’d planned her wedding as if she hadn’t a care in the entire world.
Brushing a tear aside, she looked back at the door. Someone would be coming back. They’d come for her—take her God only knew where to do God only knew what.
Letting out a shaky breath, she pounded on the ground in frustration.
There was no way out of this. No one to help her.
Hot tears spilled down her cheeks.
Although she’d told herself yesterday that she only needed to hold on for twenty-four more hours, she knew that truth was something far worse.
Ryan and his SEAL teams weren’t here. No one was coming to help her.
She could only rely on herself.
