| |
There was no clock to count the minutes.
Eric focused on the far wall. Behind him, the space had looked like a bedroom—sheetrock, paint, and ceiling on three sides of the bed. But the part of the room that would be out of sight of the cameras, the part that he could see now, was all basement. Concrete walls to each side and in front of him, concrete floor below, rafters and pipes and ducts above. There were full-sized windows near the ceiling. Beyond them, he could see only darkness, but he figured each was just inches above the ground outside.
Eric found a spot on the wall across from him and focused on it. It looked like someone had drilled a bolt in the concrete there. Water had come in through that hole, dripped down the concrete and left an ugly rust-colored stain.
Silence filled the space.
Surfer Dude was standing by the door, arms crossed. The kid was bored.
Eric's shoulders ached, and the plastic ties binding him to the chair were cutting into his wrists. Eric shifted, a futile attempt to get comfortable. The chair creaked beneath him. The thing would probably collapse any minute.
Yeah, focus on the furniture. Don't think about Kelsey. Don't think about what Otero is planning. If Surfer Dude had been given the go-ahead to torture Eric to get information, Eric would feel better about the situation. But he hadn't been. Which meant they didn't need to use pain as a motivator. Which meant they had a better motivator.
Kelsey.
Not that it looked like Surfer Dude's punches would hurt much, but Eric was used to being beat on. As the youngest of four brothers, he'd gotten beat up plenty in his life. And this guy had nothing on Eric's oldest brother. On TV, all the thugs were skillful and brutal fighters. In real life, most people, even thugs, didn't get that much opportunity to practice their fighting skills. Eric figured Surfer Dude spent more time working on his tan than on his boxing skills.
He didn't know where Daniel was—for that he was thankful. But he needed Otero to believe Daniel had been given up for adoption and lost forever. Only that would protect the boy. Maybe Eric wouldn't survive this. And what would become of Kelsey?
He wouldn't let himself imagine the possibilities.
But if Eric could protect Daniel, then maybe, maybe all Eric and Kelsey had lost—their marriage, their lives together, their future—maybe all that loss would matter.
Footsteps sounded on the ceiling above him, then on the stairs.
The door opened, and Otero stepped in. He wore a satisfied smile. Eric itched to punch it off the guy's face.
Clenching his fists only made the plastic dig into his flesh more.
"Dude, you gonna let me hit him?" the surfer asked.
"I'm not your dude," Otero said. "Step away."
Surfer Dude backed to the opposite wall.
Otero stared down at Eric. "Why are you trying to hide a child your wife had with another man?"
"I'm not hiding anybody. I don't know where the kid is."
"Oh, but you do. You know exactly where he is."
"You'll have to kidnap and torture someone from the adoption agency. 'Course, I don't know where she was living when she gave the kid up. It'll be a heckuva search. Maybe you should hire a lawyer."
Otero smiled, chuckled softly. "I don't think that'll be necessary." He stepped out of Eric's line of vision, then returned dragging a chair that matched the rickety one Eric was sitting in. He set it a few feet in front of Eric and settled into it, stretching his legs out in front of him. "You're quite attached to Kelsey."
Eric made eye contact but said nothing.
"I can appreciate that," Otero said. "A man like you. You married her. Where I come from, vows are important. Marriage means something, yes? And you, you have stayed loyal to our Kelsey for nearly ten years."
Our Kelsey. Like they shared her. The words filled him with a fresh rage. He fought the desire to struggle against the restraints, the creaky chair.
Otero noticed the reaction. He crossed his ankle over his knee. "But you must ask yourself, has she stayed loyal to you?" The man made a tsk, tsk, tsk sound. "This, I can answer for you. And I'm afraid you won't like it."
Eric didn't want to hear what Otero had to say. If he survived this, eventually Kelsey would tell him all that had happened between her and Otero. He didn't want to hear it from this man.
But he didn't allow his gaze to falter nor his emotions to show. This was a game of chicken, and Eric couldn't afford to flinch.
"Most of my girls, I don't even know their names," Otero said. "I don't bother with them. These days, I usually don't even see them. They are merchandise, valuable only as long as they can bring income. But your Kelsey, she was different from the very start. Back then, I examined all my girls. And when I examined her..." Otero smiled. "I knew she was different from that first day. I kept her for myself. I didn't even allow the other men to break her. No, I wanted that pleasure to be mine." He shook his head sadly. "It wasn't as much fun as I'd anticipated. Do you know why?"
Eric wouldn't respond. Wouldn't react.
"Because she didn't fight me. Not once. She was as compliant as a trained dog from the first time. Not just compliant. No, no. Your Kelsey, she was eager."
"You're lying."
The man had the audacity to chuckle. "Of course you would think that. Only a short time before, you had pledged your undying love to her. For her to move on that quickly—"
"She was trying to save her sister."
"Yes, I can imagine this is what she told you. Of course she had to come up with a story. But she never asked me to have mercy on her sister. Never even mentioned her. I think she liked the power."
"You're a fool if you think I'm going to believe a word you say."
"One of us is definitely a fool," Otero said. "But it is not me."
"Kelsey is pure and precious and brave."
Otero laughed. "Kelsey is none of those things. Pure? Let me tell you how pure she is." And then Otero launched into a story, sharing details Eric never wanted to know about what he'd done to Kelsey, what he claimed Kelsey had done with him. Eric would have blocked his ears if his hands had been free.
The surfer leaned in for every disgusting word.
Kelsey is pure and precious and brave.
Pure and precious and brave.
But Otero's words brought images that caused nausea to rise in Eric's throat. He couldn't help but see the pictures the words described.
No.
He couldn't allow himself to think of her the way Otero saw her. Because Otero didn't know her, couldn't know her, and certainly had no right to define her.
The thought came gently, fell like the snow beyond the windows.
Kelsey was pure and precious and brave, and nothing Otero had done, nothing he said, nothing he believed could change who she was. Because nobody had the right to define Kelsey except her Creator. And her Creator saw her very differently.
"Kelsey is pure and precious and brave."
Otero stopped his story, frowned. "You are a fool."
"You are a monster."
Surfer Dude stepped forward. "Lemme have a go with him."
Eric wasn't afraid of the surfer. He barely gave him a glance before he focused on Otero again.
Otero continued to stare at Eric. Seconds ticked away before he stood, shook his head. "No need." He threw the words at his thug without breaking Eric's eye contact. "If he won't tell us, Kelsey will. I'll have her brought here right away."
No. No. Kelsey had to be safe. If she wasn't safe... "You're lying."
Otero smiled. "I always wanted a lake house."
Lake house. He knew where she was.
"But of course, I live on the sea, and that is better, no?" Otero turned to the surfer. "Make yourself comfortable. I may need your services when she arrives."