Ember curls her arms underneath her head, careful not to disturb the thick bandage wrapped around her forearm. Her muddied blue eyes lock on me.
Even injured, it’s impossible not to notice that she’s fucking beautiful. Her flaming hair, delicately structured facial bones and generous pout would make her the object of anyone’s desires.
“Sleep. I’ll stand guard.”
Ember’s nose crinkles as she looks over my body. “Maybe you’re the one I should be worrying about.”
I shift on the bed, wrestling with my urge to pull her close.
“Maybe.”
CHAPTER 6
EMBER
HURT – JOHNNY CASH
Flyingacross the Atlantic Ocean is a lot more fun than being nearly frozen to death in a shipping container. Though I’m not accustomed to private flights, and being fussed over the whole twelve hours has worn on my nerves.
Changing into the plain black leggings and thick, grey sweater Warner flourished from a packed bag, I try to tame my hair in the bathroom mirror. We’re landing shortly.
The clean red strands flow to my mid-back in lightly curling waves. There’s no hiding the dyed blonde tips that have grown out. I hate how seeing them make me feel.
“Get it together,” I berate my battered reflection. “You’re going home.”
I don’t need anyone to spot just how broken I feel inside. How stray memories of fights, punishments and dark days spent starving in a cage float back into my mind when I least expect them.
More importantly, I don’t want anyone to ever find out the price I paid for surviving the fight clubs. How weak my mind and body have become as a result. I can’t handle concern or pity.
Axel came close to discovering my secret last night when he knocked on my door after I came back around. The blackout episodes hit infrequently, but each attack is physically exhausting.
I don’t know what it is. Sometimes my head splits open, and the world vanishes until I come to, my limbs locked tight. But the thought of admitting to anyone that they happen is abhorrent.
Weakness gets you killed.
They have to remain a secret.
“Em?” There’s a tap on the door. “Landing in five. You need to take your seat.”
“Gotcha.”
Clenching my jaw, I resume rebuilding my mental brick wall. The same wall that kept me alive while other women were violated and sold to the highest bidder. The wall that kept me sane.
I can’t let it tumble down now. I’ve paid in blood, sweat and endless screams to get to this moment. In a matter of minutes, I’ll step foot back in England and see my big brother again.
It doesn’t matter what I’ve done.
Now I can forget it all.
Quickly plaiting my long locks to conceal the blonde tips as best as possible, I tie off the braid then take a final glance. The vivid purple bruising is still horrific, but I can tentatively open my eye now.
Warner taps again. “Sorry, Em. The captain is insisting.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
I’m not sure what he would say if he knew where Axel slept last night. Warner’s barely let me out of his sight since I revealed enough of my story to get him off my back.
When I woke up to voices calling my name, Axel’s presence in the bed was gone. All that remained was a cold cavern in the mattress to prove it wasn’t all some delirious, post black out dream.
