Mountain Challenge (Mont Blanc Rescue #9)

Chapter 30

30

Isla

A t times, Isla could hear the men—or at least one of the men—moving somewhere upstairs. The rest of the time, the silence was deafening.

It was getting harder to focus on anything that wasn’t Laura. Her friend had woken up, briefly, soon after their captors had left. Dazed, eyes unfocused, Laura had barely had a few sips of water from the single copper-colored canteen their captors had left for them, before passing out again. She was still breathing, but the longer she stayed unconscious, the more Isla’s fear that something was wrong grew.

Something .

Euphemism of the year.

Try everything .

Because there was nothing Isla could do to help her friend. Not while they were stuck here. And she should be strategizing, planning how to get out of here. But instead, she was sitting here, paralyzed by fear, her eyes so dry and scratchy from all the crying she’d done, she had no more tears left.

The noise grew louder—closer. As the door opened Isla stood up, leaning against the wall for support, praying fervently for it to be the slimmer man with the thin mustache—Richard. Her hope died when she saw Getty’s thick, round face.

“Do you want me to untie you?” he asked, keeping his hands up where she could see them. His voice was soft, but it was the kind of high-pitched, melodic tone some people used when trying to trick an animal into doing something. Most animals were too smart to fall for that tone. And Isla realized just how much the last hours had reduced her to an animal state—fear and instinct warring inside her. It didn’t matter what tone he used. There was nothing the man could say or do that would make her trust him.

Isla’s eyes stole behind her captor. Through the open doorway— the open doorway —she could see a stone staircase heading up. Towards freedom .

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught his grin widening. “You think you could make it before I catch you?”

It was a make-or-break moment, and she made the choice without even realizing it. Because somewhere in the last few hours she’d made up her mind that—given half the chance—she would run. And she was going to make good on that promise.

Her forward momentum was stopped by a sharp pain in her scalp as her captor pulled on her hair. She fell backwards, right into his arms. “Let me go!” Isla screamed.

Miles laughed. “Told you I would catch you.” One arm pulled tight across her body, pulling her back against his front, while his free hand roamed upwards. Up her leg, her hip, her breast. He tugged on her nipple—hard—and Isla felt her mind fracture.

“Stop screaming or I’m going to gag you,” he said, shaking her. Isla didn’t stop. She could no more stop screaming than she could take off in flight. She screamed and screamed, even as a ball gag was pushed against her mouth. She fought it, biting around it like a rabid animal, but moments later it was firmly in place. Inside, she was still screaming, but the sound was now muffled.

“Stupid bitch. I didn’t want to gag you. There’s other things we can do with that pretty mouth of yours,” Miles said, pushing her back carelessly onto the floor. Isla landed on her tailbone—the pain blinding, for an instant. But at least she was away from him, and that meant she could breathe again. She lay on the icy floor, panting. Waiting. Watching.

Then something changed in his expression. The anger was wiped off, replaced by a calm she hadn’t seen before. He wiped his hands against his jeans, seemingly satisfied with the lesson he’d taught her. There was a telling bulge on his pants that hadn’t been there before, and it filled her with fear, because she knew exactly when it’d come about. She’d felt it as they fought. Control . That’s what turned him on. Controlling her.

Isla knew how dangerous this was—and how unfit she was for navigating the situation. So while her body screamed at her to get up and fight, she did the only thing she could—she lowered her forehead against the floor in a visible sign of submission, and held herself there for the longest seconds of her life.

His quiet words were her reward. “Think about what just happened, bitch. And about what you can do to make me happy the next time I open this door.”

The door closed behind him. Isla held her position for a few moments longer, then crawled to her friend.