Scorched (Surrender #4)(73)
Author: Melody Anne

If she was going to die, then she was going to do it fighting, not cowering in the corner the way they expected her to.

Only once since arriving had she been outside, and snow had covered the ground. They had huge floodlights all over the yard, making it impossible for her to sneak out beneath the watchful gaze of Gianni’s guards. There were woods all around, so if she could get to them, she had a place to hide, but she’d bet there wasn’t another house around for miles. If the elements didn’t kill her, then wild animals might. It was still a better death than being tortured and raped.

“Have you decided to cooperate yet?”

Rachel looked the man dead in the eyes while she forced another spoonful of mush into her mouth. She said nothing.

“Ah, I see you still think you have choices here,” he said, a corner of his lip turning up as he gazed at her, his head tilting slightly as if she were a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out how to solve.

“I can understand why my brother is so fascinated by you. There is fire running through your veins. If we had met under more…pleasant circumstances, I might have fancied you myself,” he said. It was a compliment she could do without.

Rachel didn’t blink, just tried her hardest not to explode. It wasn’t the right time yet. He was a slimy slug and she would have no qualms about gouging out his eye with a fire poker if she could get her hands on one. Unfortunately, these men weren’t stupid, and they allowed no possible weapons where she might get to them.

She wanted to scream, but kept silent, conveying her loathing of him loud and clear with just a look.

His hand lifted and caressed her face. When she jerked her head away, he grabbed her hair, yanking it and pulling her forward so her bowl was knocked over the edge of the table. “I think it’s time to teach you how a real king gets a woman to behave,” Gianni said, his voice deadly. He stood and grabbed her arm, bruising her as he hauled her from her seat.

Rachel struggled against him, but to no avail. Gianni raised his other hand and slapped her hard enough that she nearly blacked out. Her eye began swelling as he moved toward the door.

Within a few seconds, the heavy back door was open and he pushed her outside, making her stumble and sink to her knees in the snow. Two of his men approached and grabbed her arms, lifting her back to her feet as they continued their forward march. She couldn’t suppress her overwhelming fear about what would happen next. As she trembled from terror and the cold, they marched her barefoot through the snow to a shed.

Opening the door, they tossed her in. Rachel landed on her backside and scooted away from the men to the far wall.

“Why don’t you cool off for a while and see if it gives you a better attitude? When you are ready to speak to me, we’ll allow you to come back inside,” Gianni said before the door shut, locking her inside.

The shed did little to ward off the bitter cold of winter, and Rachel’s thin clothing helped her not at all. So she searched until she found an old tarp under a pile of debris.

Folding it in two, she felt the gripping cold of the plastic material pierce through her clothing and freeze her skin while she wrapped the thing, filthiness and all, around her shoulders. But it was all she had, and she prayed it would help to hold in what little body heat she had remaining.

Curling up in a fetal position on the hard earth floor, she breathed deeply into her plastic cocoon, refusing to let any tears fall.

This wasn’t how her life was supposed to end.

She was supposed to be a mother in five months; she was supposed to hold her babies close as she dreamed about tomorrow.

Rachel knew she should try to stay awake, but as sleep began dragging her under, she soon stopped fighting it. She didn’t want to be awake. If she didn’t ever awaken, it was meant to be.

Letting go, she huddled beneath the tarp and prayed for the comfort of dreams to replace her harsh reality.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

THE DOOR SWUNG open and Shane was standing there in full military gear, looking like GI Joe come to life. Rachel was trying to analyze this dream. Why would she be fantasizing about Shane? She’d think it would be Adriane, the man she loved, rescuing her.

But, no, not even in her fantasies was he playing the star and the hero. Maybe she’d closed the door on the hope of a happily ever after with her king; maybe she thought it was too much to hope for at this point.

She did think it would be mighty nice if Shane passed his coat over to her, though. If she were going to have a fantasy about him stripping, then she’d really like to have his coat.

Rachel giggled at the thought. The sound of her voice coming out squeaky startled her into stopping her laughing as quickly as she had begun it. Wow, this was a strange dream.

“Put this on,” Shane said, rushing to her and placing a bag at her feet, then kneeling down and helping her sit up. Rachel gave him a sweet smile and nodded her head. She tried to reach for the bag, but her fingers wouldn’t work.

Maybe she had frostbite. It wasn’t unlikely. Maybe she was already dead and this was heaven. But why would Shane be in her heaven?

“Let me help you,” he said, then he carefully removed the tarp. She wanted to protest even though it wasn’t much protection against the cold.

Within a few heartbeats, a warm coat was being wrapped around her shoulders, sending some feeling back into her arms. Then gloves were being thrust upon her hands. Oh, this dream was getting better all the time. If she got out of here alive, she’d have to apologize to Lia about fantasizing about Shane. At least she could tell her sister that she’d been fantasizing about Shane putting clothes on her, rather than taking them off.

She’d never been attracted to Shane, but right now, she could kiss the man.

“Lean on me,” fantasy Shane said as he pulled her into his arms, making her stand up on wobbly legs. She didn’t like this part of the dream. Her feet ached from walking in the snow and then being clenched stiffly as she’d tried to curl up into as tight a ball as she possibly could.

Soon, warm pants were pulled up her legs, and then, even better, thick wool socks. Before she could blink, Shane was putting shoes on her feet and tying the laces.

Rachel reached out and touched his face, afraid he was going to disappear and she’d find herself huddled in the cold again without the fabulously warm clothing enveloping her.

“Shane?” she asked.

“I’m here, Rachel. I’m getting you out of here,” he said, his voice soothing as he wrapped her in an affectionate embrace.