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CHAPTER ONE
CHARLIE
Soulless black eyes glitter as the man eyes my naked body, lingering on my curves, and he leers, exposing crooked yellow teeth. He spits words at his devoted minions, his tone guttural as he gestures toward me and smirks at the others eagerly awaiting their turn. His intent is clear, and he’s performed these theatrics more times than I can count. His sadistic glee hardens my resolve. I force down my fear and focus on my anger.
Bastard.
He surveys me, licking thin lips at my gritted teeth and taut jaw. The bastard delights in sexual violence. My stomach churns. Fighting back only inflames his lust, but I’ll die before I surrender. He smiles in anticipation, his fervor palpable. The Chihuahua enjoys inflicting pain.
He lifts a stubby hand toward my face, curling it as if to stroke my cheek with his knuckles. Instead, he backhands me with enough force that the cell around me goes black, and I taste blood. As soon as my vision clears, I snarl and buck as hard as I can against my restraints. The barbed wire suspending me from a pipe in the ceiling bites deeper into my wrists with my movement, and warm blood drips up my arms. His dark eyes gleam with satisfaction, and he licks his lips as he unbuckles his belt.
No!
I jolt into alertness at the sound of three rapid blasts of gunfire. I hurriedly scan my surroundings without lowering my weapon. I’m panting, soaked with cold sweat, my heart skittering like a jackrabbit as my eyes dart wildly, searching for my attacker.
But there’s no one.
My gaze falls on the plump beige sofas and reclaimed wood tables in the next room. I stare down at the gun gripped in my right hand, recognizing the smell of hot sulfur as comprehension creeps over me.
I’m home.
Not there.
I’m safe.
Dammit! Not again!
A split second later, my cell phone alerts, playing the custom ringtone Lila and Tucker recorded for their frequent nocturnal interventions. Lila’s voice is calm yet firm. “Charlie, you’re safe now. No one can hurt you. Listen to my voice, Charlie. You’re safe now. No one can hurt you. Pick up your phone.” The words repeat in a loop until I answer it with trembling hands.
“Charlie?”
My lips won’t form words. I nod instead.
“Charlie, wave your hand if you’re with me.” Her gentle tone steadies me, and my eyes flash to the camera Tucker mounted in my foyer ceiling as I lift a shaky hand.
“Good job. We’ve got you on speaker. Can you put down your gun?”
I stare at the gun still clenched in my hand, then place it on the table to my right.
“Good. Do you think you can talk to me?”
I shake my head.
“That’s alright. You’re doing fine. Put us on speakerphone. We’re going to take some slow, deep breaths now. Do it with me. Breathe in. Nice and deep.” I hear her inhaling deeply, coaxing me along. “Breathe out. That’s it. In. Nice and easy. Out.”
I close my eyes and match my respirations to hers, feeling my erratic heart gradually calm. It’s several minutes before I’m settled enough to open my eyes.
“I’m okay.” My voice comes out raspy, and I clear my throat.
“Name four things you see.”
Lila’s making sure I’m grounded in the present and oriented to my surroundings.
Making sure I’m safe to be alone.
My eyes scour my foyer. “There are wrought iron drawer handles on the table to my right. The red and cream rug at my front door needs to be straightened. The picture of me and Mark in Afghanistan is on the table beside my gun.” I sigh as my eyes land on the far living room wall leading into the kitchen. “And I’ve got three new bullet holes.”
Lila sticks to the protocol. “Describe three things you can touch.”
