BROKEN COURAGE (Broken Redemption Book 3)

Chapter 31

Emilia

Darkness. It's a word that takes on an entirely new meaning when you're bound to it, not by your own choice. The weight of it is much thicker than any other I've felt before, almost like it's taken on a corporeal form that sticks to me like a parasite, draining the life, the fight, straight from my bones. The only warmth is that of the little hands wrapped around my neck, and the feel of her breaths against my skin. Like a promise of better things, it beckons me, pulling me back into awareness. As confusion slithers up my skin in the form of goosebumps, I shiver.

Where are we?

How did we end up here?

Though I can't see her, I know it's Alyssa in my arms. It pains me she's here. She doesn't belong in this cold, dank darkness that hangs in the air like an anvil around our necks. As terrifying as our situation is, my instincts demand I set aside my discomfort. Above all else, I have to protect her. I need to do what I can to make her feel safe.

Fighting through the pain in my head, I open my eyes to find there's nothing to see but more darkness. Caught in the grip of such nothingness is like a punch to the gut. It's disorienting. Makes you want to run in fear yet paralyzes you just the same. It's hard to breathe, to think, and it leaves me wanting to succumb to the hopelessness it invokes. But just as the tears begin to fall, Alyssa's arms squeeze me tighter.

That slight movement is all it takes to remind me of my purpose: to keep her safe. To remain aware, present, and unshakable amid the terror, so I can minimize the psychological trauma and see her through to the other side of this nightmare. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her in closer. Her sweet scent, so soft and pure, is just what I need to anchor myself. Even so, I'm gripped by the tentacles of the chemically induced exhaustion that wants to steal my awareness. It's how they got us here. They incapacitated me with unconsciousness so I couldn't fight, but not this time. I refuse to give in. Alyssa needs me and I can't take the chance of passing out again. For what if they come and take her from me, too?

Stifling back a sob, I try to remember the last time I saw Mallory, but my mind comes up blank. My last memory of her is her screams—sounds so loud and shrill that it took me a second to realize they were coming from her. Except a mother knows. It was her, but that's the last thing I remember before the drugs they injected into me took effect. Now, I don't know where she is. It breaks my heart into a billion pieces, and I will my mind not to think of what she might be going through without me. Instead, I try to convince myself she got away. That somehow, James and Tyler got to her in time, and because of them, she's safe—a little shaken up, but okay nonetheless—and waiting for her sister and me to return. It's all I can do to keep myself from falling apart.

Thanks to the drugs still working their way through my system, my memories of how we got here are vague and dreamlike. I'm not entirely sure how much of it was real. I do know that each time I woke up, my daughter was wrapped around me, and even when I lost the fight for consciousness, she never let go. The thought of her enduring so much of our ordeal on her own brings tears to my eyes.

"Lyssie..." My voice is hoarse, my throat so dry I have to swallow a few times before I can go on. "Baby. Talk to Mama. You okay?"

Without lifting her little head, she gives a slight nod while something wet trails down my chest. Tears. She's terrified, which brings forth unbearable pain. It was my job to protect them, and that I'm the reason this happened is unforgivable. I should have heeded the warnings. I should have done what I was told, and because I didn't, my little girls are in danger. The guilt sucks the breath right out of my lungs in a painful sob, which I fight to hold back for Alyssa's sake. She needs me to be strong, so with deep breaths, I tell myself the lie that everything will be alright. Trying to convince myself that I'll figure out a way to get us to safety, all I have to do is hold on and keep fighting for my children.