Page 84 of Keeping Zita

“I’ll be in touch again within a couple of hours. In the meantime, have faith, Obi-Wan. Anyone who could fuck up a bodyguard like that is tough as shit. She knew what she was doing. Knew he wouldn’t be able to hide his face or explain away those fingernail marks. If the cops can’t get him to break, I’ll find out his secrets another way…by harassing his so-called friends. Guarantee they won’t be so loyal by the time I get done with them. I’ll call soon.”

That second-to-last sentence was the only thing keeping Obi-Wan from completely losing his shit. Tex was right. Silas might keep his mouth shut, and he doubted Carmen would admit to knowing anything about Zita’s disappearance. But the assholes Silas ran with? They’d probably throw their mothers under the bus if it meant getting themselves out of a tight spot.

“Hold on, Zita. We’re coming for you. Just keep breathing,” he whispered, hoping like hell she was still alive, waiting for him to find her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

One breath in, hold it for five seconds, then let it out for another five seconds.

Zita had gone over every inch of her prison cell. There weren’t any loose pieces of metal, not a single loose screw, nothing. She was literally in a metal box with two hard slabs sticking out of the wall. She had nothing to eat, to drink…but far more importantly, nothing to signal that she was here.

She was trying to do everything in her power to keep the panic from taking over.

Silas had led her a few levels down into the huge ship, and then down several corridors. Even if someone knew to look for her in this hunk of metal, it would probably take a week for them to check every room. And she didn’t have a week. Not without anything to drink. She could live without food for a while, but not fluids.

All she could do was lie on one of the bunks and breathe. She dozed off and on, but when she was awake, she did her best to ignore her growling belly by counting her breaths. She wasn’t ready to give up, but she honestly had no idea how anyone…how Sage…would find her.

Also, the longer she was in the dark, the more sounds she heard. And the more she was convinced there were spirits inside this ship. She’d been awakened earlier by the sound of a door slamming shut. Thinking someone was here, that they were searching for her, she’d leapt up and screamed as loudly as she could. She’d pounded on the door, not that her fists made much noise against the thick metal door, but she couldn’t simply lie there and do nothing.

Except after a while, she realized no one was there. It was just as silent as it had been from the moment she was locked in.

Two minutes after she sat down on the metal bed, slumped in despair, she heard what sounded like laughter. It was high-pitched and eerie, only lasting for a split second.

“That wasn’t funny!” she called out, pissed off at the spirits for messing with her head.

Of course, she got no response.

Hours after that—at least, she assumed it was hours—Zita could’ve sworn she felt a cold breeze against her face. But that was impossible, considering she was way down in the bowels of the ship.

In any other circumstance, Zita might’ve freaked out at the thought of being surrounded by ghosts. But other than teasing her by slamming that metal door, they didn’t feel mean-spirited.

She still thought it was more likely she was losing her mind. That happened when people were put into solitary confinement, or so she’d read. But thinking there were spirits around made her feel not quite so alone.

“Sage is gonna come,” she said out loud, needing to hear something other than the ominous creaking of the ship and her own heartbeat. “Wait until you see him. He’s gorgeous. Muscular, sexy. He makes me feel beautiful too, which hasn’t really happened to me before. He’s funny, and smart, and the best pilot in the world. And he loves me.”

The last words were whispered.

“I’m still having a hard time believing it. I mean, I’m just me. I’m no one special. And yet, when I’m with him, I feel special. Like I’m the most important person in his world. It’s a heady feeling. He works really hard, and he’s a hero too. He’s probably been on lots of ships just like this one. He flies helicopters for a living. And he’s damn good at it. He’s looking for me. Probably worrying like crazy about where I am. But he’ll figure it out. Him and his friends. They’ll find Silas, see what I did to his face and know he was the one who kidnapped me. My DNA is in his trunk, and they’ll look at his past work history and come check this stupid shipyard. He claimed he was the best at hide-and-go seek—but fuck him! They’ll find me.”

Zita paused.

“I just wish they’d hurry up.”

Swallowing hard, she took another deep breath in, held it for five seconds, then let it out slowly while counting once more to five.

Patience. She just had to have patience.

But there was a giant clock in her head that was counting the passage of time…and hers was ticking. As a medic, she knew exactly what the lack of water would do to her. Exactly how being dehydrated would slowly kill her. It didn’t matter how strong she was. How smart, how much she loved Sage. Time wasn’t on her side. She knew it, and he probably did too.

Deep breath.

Hold it.

Let it out.

All she could do was concentrate on breathing. One breath at a time.

Buck was currently trying to get Obi-Wan to eat something, but he was in no mood. Would probably puke if he tried to eat. Every time he looked up, he saw the clock that sat over the bar at Anchor Point. It was one of those old-fashioned ones. With a huge face and a second hand that ticked along slowly but steadily. It seemed to be mocking Obi-Wan, and he swore he could hear the actual ticking of that damn second hand over the voices and other noise in the room.