Chapter 4

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     Is he worth it? Is he worth it? Is he worth it? Maia made short appearances to bring my meals for the next day and a half. Few words were shared between the two of us. What could I say? She had a talent of cutting deep with only a handful of words. So, I'm a little surprised when I see a head of deep auburn hair walk through the door. In Cam's hand, he held a tray with a bowl of salad on top and iced water on the side. Lunch.

     "Greek orzo salad." He answers as if reading my mind. Unlike usual, he doesn't set the food on the tv tray beside my bed and leaves without another word. This time he sits on the edge of the bed with the food on his lap. With my knees pressed to my chest, I watch him in a way I would imagine a deer would watch the lion. Waiting for him to make the first sign of an attack. Seconds turn into minutes. Soon feeling like an eternal silence. The man of few words is the first to break the silence. "Maia can be a little bit of a bitch sometimes."

     The comment is so unexpected, especially from his lips, that it brings a laugh to the surface. The first one I've really felt in a week. Maybe longer. "A little?"

     "Understatement, I know." His thumb taps lightly at the tray. A nervous habit. He wants to say something.

     "What is it?" The fist squeezing my inner stomach is hard to ignore. What bad news is he bringing me?

     He takes a second or two answering me. Like me, he thinks before he speaks, as if every word is valuable. The last words he will ever say. "If it was up to me, this would have gone differently." He mutters, surprising me once again. At least he doesn't have James and Maia's lack of empathy.

     "Then, why don't you help me?" Without realizing it, I've moved in a position so that I'm sitting on my knees. Cam might be my hope. "I can tell this isn't you. Why play the part?"

     He sighs with exhaustion. Like this is an argument he's had with himself multiple times. That sigh alone tells me everything I need to know, without him having to speak. He's not going to go against James's orders no matter what I say. "I can't. It's my job."

     Before I get the chance to reply, there's a round of shouts and gun fire ringing on the other side of the door. Flashbacks of the night of the party flash before my eyes. My body is already shaking by the time Maia bursts through the door, a wild look in her eyes. "They're here. Grab her and let's go!" And just like that, the moment between Cam and I is over. He throws the tray of food to the side, moving as if his life depends on it. Maybe it does.

     "Who's here?!" I ask, thoroughly panicked about what will happen next. "What's going on?!"

     "Shut up." Cam hisses, dragging me out of the room and down the hall. All the while, another round of shots ring from above us. The three of us stop at the bottom of the staircase, listening to the shouts. Apparently there were more people here than I originally thought. "Where do we take her?"

     "What? You think we're gonna fight for her? Fuck that. If Harris wanted her so bad, then he could have stuck around. It's his problem." She grabs my arm, yanking me to her side fiercely. "She's their problem. Not ours." Reaching in her back pocket, she grabbed a pair of handcuffs and locked them around my wrists.

     "Who's here?!" A surge of fear takes over me once more. Even more so than the day I woke up in a mysterious room with no idea how I got there.

     "Shut the hell up!" Maia hisses. She looks around for a moment, until she finds a hand towel on the floor. She snatches it up and forces me to spin around so that my back is facing her. "Say one more thing and you're gonna wish you were dead." This threat immediately silences me. There can't be anyone worse than Maia. Can there? She ties the towel around my head, leaving me completely blind to my surroundings. "Take her to that closet. We're getting out of here." Together, we walk the steps to the first floor. Wooden steps dip beneath our weight, threatening to break at any second. The sounds of chaos no longer sound like they're echoing, but instead right next to me.

     With one hand on my arm, I race to keep up with Cam. His legs are longer than mine, leading him to drag me more than half the way. I nearly trip over a rock, but quickly catch myself. If not, I would be dragged by my knees across the rubble. There are so many questions building up, but fear keeps them buried. Finally, we stop abruptly.

     "I'm so sorry." Cam whispers, carefully pushing me back against a wall.

     "About what?" Quiet. "Cam, what's going on?" The only response I receive is the sound of a door closing. "Cam?" It only takes minutes before I begin feeling suffocated. Chaos still ensues beyond the door, bringing a strange comfort along with it. Slowly, then all at once, my body curls into itself. Not long after entering this box, my knees are to my chest and my face buried in my knees.

     The sound of gunfire keeps me grounded. It feels like an eternity has passed by the time the sound of gunshots fade away into nothing, leaving me with only the sound of my breathing. My hands are tied behind my back, not giving me the chance to remove the towel from my head. I'm not even sure I want to. As mama always said, ignorance is bliss.

     The amount of time that has passed is a mystery to me, but suddenly the sound of the door creaking open startles me. Instantly, my head darts up in the direction where the noise came from. "Who's there?" I squeak out, afraid of what the answer may be.

     Rough fingers find the back of my head, lightly tugging at the knot until it gives. Roman's kneeling before me, a gun in one hand while his other caresses my cheek. "Everything is okay now. I've got you." If only I believed him. A scream completely foreign to my own ears, erupts from my lips causing the men with guns to be startled. "Sawyer, it's me. It's Roman." The desperation and assurance in his voice goes in one ear and out the other. After my time here, I've learned at least one thing. The man that I thought once was Roman Berkshire never existed. I'm in more danger with this man than I am with Maia, Cam, or James.

     Fight or flight kicks in once more, sending me into overdrive. Using everything in my disposal, I kick at the man, desperate to get his hands off of me. There has never been such a time that I needed to survive more than now. "Get off of me!"

     "Sawyer, I can't do this right now." Frustration is deeply woven through his voice. A second later, he's throwing me over his shoulder. If my hands were untied, I would scratch and claw. It's probably smarter to keep them tied behind my back. "You'll be fine once I get you out of here."

     "Fuck you, Roman! Let me go!" Like a mad woman, I kick my legs in every direction, hoping this will deter him from taking me. Every kick feels like a kick to a stone wall. Nothing will break him. Once again, I'm a hostage. 





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