Prologue
April 20th
Dizziness
assailed Meggie, the world around her gray and distant. Her head pounded and
her ribs throbbed. She lay next to a body so hot, she swore fire blazed nearby,
although darkness surrounded her and a chill hung in the air.
Oh God! Mystic
had her in the underground bunker. Christopher rescuing her had been a dream.
Soon, she’d die.
The heat
engulfing her body gave her pause.
Every inch of her
ached and her mouth was so dry she could’ve drunk gallons of water. Except she
needed light. She’d hated the darkness long before Mystic had kidnapped her.
That ordeal made her despise it as much as she feared it.
She couldn’t have
been in Mystic’s freezing cold prison, so where was she? Where was the light?
And where were her husband and children?”
“Christopher?”
she croaked.
The weight
pressing against her moved, fanning the flames threatening to consume her.
“Megan.”
“Christopher?”
she whispered, not understanding why he sounded as if it took all his strength
to call her name.
Drawing in a deep
breath, she searched her memory. Bits and pieces floated back to her.
Christopher had been shot and she had been beaten...
Her nostrils
flared and tears slid down her cheeks. No!
She couldn’t
think about what had happened. Later, she’d do her best to remember. Right now,
she had to save her husband.
Moving proved
impossible. He lay partially against her, deadweight. She tried to push him
away but couldn’t budge him.
“Christopher,
please, you’ve got to slide over,” she said, her voice as loud as possible,
even though talking hurt her throat. “I need to help you. You’re burning with
fever.”
“Megan, baby.”
“I’m here. You’re
badly hurt. You’ve got to move over so I can get up.”
“What the fuck he
fuckin’ did to you?”
“Move.
They might come back and—”
“Fuckin’
fucked-up fuckheads ain’t fuckin’ able to come fuckin’ back,” he mumbled.
“Okay,” she said,
too tired to argue. It was pointless anyway. Christopher was fever-ridden and
delirious.
He inched away
from her in slow, agonizing degrees. With each move, he moaned and trembled.
But finally, his weight was gone.
She sat up, in
agony. She intended to swing her legs over the side of the bed. Instead,
rope cut into her ankles. Attempting to lift her arm resulted in a similar
outcome. Only this time, the hemp burned her wrists. Unless she untied her
wrists, she couldn’t reach her ankle. No matter how she tried, though, the rope
wouldn’t give. It tightened.
A sob escaped
her, and she shuddered. They’d been tied together, left to die. More than
likely, Christopher wouldn’t last much longer.
“Megan.”
Even as weak as
he sounded, his voice comforted her.
“Why you cryin’?”
He was too
feverish to realize the direness of their situation. Maybe, she was selfish and
should just stay quiet so his final moments would be peaceful.
“Megan, ain’t no
reason to cry, baby. You fuckin’ safe. I killed him.”
She sniffled, her
head pounding. “We will die, Christopher. He tied us together at the wrists and
ankles. I can’t get the knot loose.”
He moved, his
hand landing heavily on her stomach. “Show me.”
Taking his hand
in hers, she tried to lift his arm. Once again, the muscled deadweight made it
impossible. “I love you, Christopher,” she whispered, exhausted.
“Show me,” he
ordered again.
“I can’t. Not
without your help.”
He grunted. His
touch didn’t come immediately, but he finally took her hand in his and lifted.
“Don’t take too fuckin’ long, Megan. My fuckin’ arm heavier than a motherfucker
and when it fuckin’ fall, it might knock you the fuck out.”
She smiled
through her tears. “Psycho,” she said, ignoring his moan of pain to accomplish
their goal.
He sniggered, his
hand smacking against their knotted wrists. “Lil’ pain in the motherfucker.”
“I-I think you
mean pain in the ass.”
“Okay, baby,” he
said, his fingers working the knot. “It’s looser,” he panted.
It was and she
started maneuvering the rope.
“Megan, baby,”
Christopher said, wheezing. “You the best fuckin’ thing ever happened to me.
You made me a better man and I ain’t ever gonna stop lovin’ you, even in death.
Just promise me you gonna be happy and never forget how much I love you and how
much you mean to me. You my fuckin’ world. Whatever man you give yourself to
gonna have the most gorgeous, loyal, and lovin’ woman in the world.”
The knot gave and
they were free as Christopher fell silent.
“Christopher!”
Meggie called, hysteria setting in again. “Christopher, don’t die. Don’t leave
me. Please. I need you. I’ll be lost without you. Please! Hold on.”
At first, he didn’t
respond, then he groaned. “Megan—”
“No, I’m not
listening. You must survive. I’m selfish and horrible, but I don’t care. I
can’t lose you.”
“What the fuck I
ever brought you but danger, baby? Look at this—”
“We’re in this
situation because of me.”
“We here cuz I
love you.” He paused to draw in breath. “We in this situation cuz a
motherfucker found where we was at.” Another pause, longer. “Motherfucker
scoped us out cuz of me.”
While he’d been
talking, she managed to free their ankles. She threw herself against him and
placed her lips over his dry ones. “I love you. If you want me to be happy,
you’ve got to stay alive.”
He grunted.
“You always said
my voice could bring you back from the dead,” she said tearfully. “Hear it now.
Please. I love you. Our children love you. CJ idolizes you. You’ll break his
heart.” Her voice cracked. “You’ll break my heart.”
He didn’t say
anything, but his chest still rose and fell. Every minute counted. She swung
her legs over the side of the bed. When she stood, her feet didn’t hit the
floor. They landed on an uneven board. She tried to walk but lost her balance
and fell. Her chin hit a face, icy and hard and…dead.
She screamed.
“Fuck. I guess
you fuckin’ found the fucked-up fuckhead.”
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