I'll Protect You

Chapter 43

I struggle to stay awake. My eye lids keep dropping without my permission no matter how hard I try to resist. I'm tired, but I refuse to give into it. I'm afraid that if I do, I'll miss Hunter coming to save me or Tage doing something.

Days. I've been trapped in this stupid concrete cell for days and yet no one has come to my rescue yet. I'm starting to seriously doubt my return to the people I love.

My memories of Hunter are fading and I keep trying to make my mind work to remember the details of his face. Those are fading. His laugh no longer rings in my ears, or the feel of his skin. It's scaring me.

I've undergone a few other torturous routines from Tage since the last time. The same questions are asked, but I don't know any of them. I have bruises and cuts all over my body. My face hurts from the countless punches and slaps I've received. This doesn't even include the cuts on my wrists and ankles. The restraints are cutting into my veiny wrists and retracting blood. It's sick.

I can't remember the last time I took a shower or have eaten a proper meal. I'm sure I've lost at least five pounds from the goopy stuff they call food.

I'm exhausted, hungry and heart broken.

"Your lunch," a gruff voice says, setting a tray of what looks like oatmeal, but is not, in front of me. I don't look up.

"Thanks," I mumble. The man doesn't sound familiar. He must be someone new.

"Listen," the man lowers his face to mine. "I know this may not seem like a five star meal you're used to, but this is what you get."

"I'm not hungry," I sleepily respond. Even if I wanted to eat, I don't think my stomach would allow it.

"Frankly," the man smiles. "I don't care."

This is the first time I decide to look up at his face, and unlike Tage, he looks genuinely nice. Yes, he has tattoos the same as his boss, but his facial features aren't as rugged.

"Why are you doing this?" I choke out, my eyes searching his.

"Because I know how important eating is." 

Hunter's POV.

Don't cry. Man up. Don't cry. Be a man. Don't cry!

I place my face in my hands, my elbows digging into my glass desk as I try to hold back the emotions that I feel.

No sleep. No eating. No Jacey. No nothing and I can't do it anymore.

My drive to get Jacey back is as powerful as it was seven days ago, but the thoughts of what she's going through makes me sick. I'm a horrible boyfriend. I'm a horrible person. I failed her. I failed her badly and I can't get it out of my head.

Even trying to sleep brings me to my feet in seconds. Nightmares. So many of them. Of my past and of what Jacey may be enduring.

"Get up," my father growls.

I'm holding my stomach, the place he had just kicked harshly. I can't breathe, all the air has been knocked out of my lungs.

"Did you hear me, boy?" If I don't answer he'll punish me. I need to answer, but I can't. My whole body hurts, and my throat is dry. The tears I've been trying to hold back fill my eyes. "How are you supposed to protect your family if you can't get up?"

I groan when he grabs my hair, pulling me to my feet.

"You can't," he smiles sinisterly. "That's the answer."

I can't. I never could. All my life I was trying to prove him wrong, to show him I could in fact keep my family safe, but I was cheating myself out. I couldn't even fully ensure Jacey's safety when I took the mission, but I was always trying to prove someone wrong. Always. And now I got a taste of my own medicine.