32. Ike

32

IKE

Pain pinched my neck as I tried to sit up. What the hell happened? Where was I? I peeled my eyes open only to find darkness. I had no fucking clue where I was, and whatever was scratching my face was irritating as hell.

I tried to reach up, only to find my hands bound behind my back. Panic tore through me for just a second before I tamped it down. I twisted my fingers, prodding around until I felt the zip ties binding my wrists together.

“Fuck,” I muttered, feeling my stomach roil as I wiggled around and got to my knees. My fucking suit was going to be filthy after this, and whoever did this was going to get the dry cleaning bill. I lifted my arms behind my back and slammed them down, breaking the ties in an instant. I grabbed the sack over my head and tore it off, spitting when fuzz got stuck to my lips.

But if I was hoping for some idea of where I was, I would be disappointed. I was in complete darkness without even a glimmer of light. I felt around in my pockets, hoping for a knife or my gun, but everything was gone. My hands instantly went to the gun I always wore around my ankle, but that was gone too.

I needed to find a way out of here, but before I did, I had to figure out who got me and why someone came after me. My brain was a jumbled mess and I had a feeling it wasn’t because of whatever drugs they had pumped into my system. I could feel the lingering effects they left behind, but that wasn’t what wiped my memory. I was sure of that.

The last thing I could recall was walking Isla back to the hotel and running into Kavanaugh. But everything after that was blank. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate, but all that did was make me want to vomit. So, instead, I got to my feet and started feeling around the walls for anything that might help me escape, or at the very least, tell me where I was.

Metal met my fingers as I slid them along the wall. Slowly, I slid my feet along the edge, taking it easy since I had no idea what I might encounter. I made it about twenty steps before I met another wall. This one was metal also, running perpendicular to the one I was just at. I followed that until I found a crack in the wall. Relief flooded me as I slid my hands along the cold metal, searching for some way to get out. Two doors. Large—floor to ceiling…That combined with the fact that this was all metal, I had a terrible feeling I knew where I was. I covered the whole fucking door, and there wasn’t anything to jimmy or pry open. It was solid and apparently only opened from the outside.

Stepping back, I slammed my shoulder into the door, hoping I could break it open. But after the fifth attempt, my head swam and I nearly fell over. I needed to wait until the drugs wore off a little more. Swallowing down the bile rising in my throat, I started working my way along the next wall I met, disappointed when all I felt was more metal.

Chills skated over my body as I made my way deeper into the room. It was definitely longer than it was wide, which gave me a few ideas about where I was, but I was still holding out hope that I was wrong. My foot collided with something on the ground and I fell hard, slamming my shoulder into the floor. Groaning, I gripped it and tried to massage the pain away. But my attempts were short-lived when I heard a moan come from beside me.

Stilling, I waited until I heard it again, then scrambled to my knees and felt around until fabric brushed against my fingers. My hands slid over the body until I felt curls tangling in my fingers.

“No,” I whispered, hoping it wasn’t true. “Isla.”

Another soft moan had me gently rolling over the body, feeling along her skin for any signs of injury. All I felt was her cold flesh under my fingertips.

“Isla, wake up!”

It took a moment of shaking her before I finally got her to come around. And when she finally spoke, something unclenched inside me.

“IKE?”

“Isla, are you okay? Does anything hurt?”

“My head,” she groaned, then gasped. “IKE, my hands?—”

“It’s okay. I’ve got it.”

In the dark, I felt around until I found her hands. They were bound behind her back like mine were, but getting them off wouldn’t be as easy as getting my own off. I didn’t have the energy to tell her how to get the damn things off, and I wasn’t even sure she was capable at the moment. I got lower until I could grip them with my teeth and then I tugged, grinding until I finally broke through them and she was free.

“Thank you,” she murmured. I couldn’t see her, but I knew she was rubbing her wrists. It was the first thing I had done as well. I slid my hand up her arm until I reached her neck, pressing my fingers to her pulse. “Where are we?”

“I have my suspicions, but I don’t know for sure.”

“I would love to know your suspicions right now,” she said, her voice quivering slightly.

“You’re shaking.”

“Well, I am in my sleep shorts and tank top.”

I cursed under my breath and quickly removed my jacket, tucking it around her shoulders. I fumbled in the dark, doing my best to button it up, but it wouldn’t be enough to keep the cold off her for long. “This is why you wear pants to bed.”

“In case someone kidnaps me and tosses me in a cold, dark place? I’ll remember that when we get out of here.” She coughed a little. “You never said where you thought we were.”

I wished like hell that I could see her face right now, to read her emotions the way I usually did. It was the only thing that helped me know what to say and the right way to say it. Now, I was grasping in the dark, so I went with the truth because I knew it was the one thing that would keep her sane.

“A shipping container.”

She was silent for a beat. “Like one of those large ones you see on the docks?”

“Yeah.”

A small chuckle left her lips. “Well, I definitely didn’t see that one coming.”

Neither had I, and I was pissed as hell that I couldn’t remember how the fuck I got here. “What do you remember?”

“Um…you were at the hotel.”

“After I walked you home?”

“No, that was the day before.”

How the hell had I lost an entire fucking day? “What was I doing at the hotel?”

“You were drunk,” she muttered. “It was after two in the morning.”

Fuck, I was pretty sure I knew where this was going. “I’m sorry in advance for anything I did.”

I heard her heavy sigh and her body shifted into a more comfortable position before she continued. “It’s fine. You were mostly rambling and attempting to pass out on the couch.”

It felt like there was a lot she wasn’t telling me, but what I was more interested in was how I ended up here. “What else?”

“I’m not sure. You were—” She cleared her throat. “Neither of us heard them come in. A bag was thrown over my head, and it just took me by surprise. I could hear you fighting them, but?—”

“I was drunk.” I cursed under my breath for allowing this to happen. If I’d just had a few drinks, none of this would have happened. I must have been wasted.

“I think someone hit me on the head, and that’s all I remember.”

Sighing, I slid across the floor, bumping into her as I found the wall and leaned against it.

“What do we do now?”

I wanted to tell her that I would get her out of here, but I didn’t see much chance of that happening. “We should check the walls for any means of escape. A latch or anything that might get us out of here. I haven’t gone to the other end of the container yet, so I don’t know what else is in here.”

“Which end?”

“The far end.”

She snorted in amusement. “Yes, I can tell which end that is from the sound of your voice.”

I slid my hand over the dirty floor until I was grasping her hand. I lifted it, ignoring how it calmed me to have her hand in mine, and pointed in the direction I meant. For just a moment, her fingers squeezed mine. For a few seconds, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time—not since Jane. But just like Jane, Isla wasn’t mine to have. She was with Kavanaugh. Not to mention, my life wasn’t conducive to having a woman in my bed for more than a night. Not if she wanted to live.

I cleared my throat, tearing my fingers from her grasp. “I’ll go to the far wall. Why don’t you start with this wall and we’ll work our way toward each other.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

I got to my feet and made my way across the container, counting my steps so I had an idea of how far I would need to go the next time I crossed. I could hear her moving across from me, but focused on the job at hand. Moving along the wall, I was met again with disappointment, not that I thought I would find anything different.

“Shit,” she hissed, drawing my attention.

“What is it?”

“I stubbed my toe on something. It’s…some kind of pallet. Hold on.” Plastic crinkled in the dark as she tore at something. “There’s something in here, but I can’t get to it.”

“We’ll come back to it. Keep checking the wall.”

Soon enough, I hit the other end and was making my way across the end wall, only to meet her in the middle.

“Nothing,” she said in defeat.

“Come on. Let’s go back and check that pallet. Maybe there’s a light or something in there.”

I doubted that was the case, but I was willing to go along with it if it gave her hope. We felt our way along the wall until we reached the pallet. My fingers skimmed over the plastic she’d been tearing. It was wrapped tightly around whatever it was holding. It took forever to get all of it off and reach the contents inside.

Of course, fumbling around in the dark didn’t make matters any easier. “A box,” I murmured, feeling along the tape. I found the end and dug under the tape, then tore it off the box. “Got it. Do you want to do the honors?”

“Do I want to stick my hands in an unknown box in the dark with no way to see before a tarantula bites my hand off? No, I think I’ll leave that to you.”

I smirked at the sarcasm in her voice. “Alright, but then I get first dibs on whatever I find.”

“I hope you find tampons,” she muttered under her breath.

I chuckled and slid my hand into the box, a lot less worried about this than she was. Grasping around in the dark made the process a lot longer than it would if I had even a dim light. But just to have some fun…

I screamed loudly, which made her scream. I started laughing when she grabbed my arm, trying to tug it out of the box.

“What are you doing?” she screamed.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

I felt a sharp slap against my arm, but it didn’t hit with the full effect she intended. “You’re such an ass! We’re trapped in the dark and you think now is the time for jokes?”

“Like you wouldn’t have done the same thing if Riley was with you?”

I could practically feel her rolling her eyes at me. “Maybe, but the difference is, I’m with you, not Riley. You should be trying to make me feel better.”

“I’m sorry. Isla, I’m going to reach into this box and everything will be perfectly normal. I’ll protect you from whatever is inside—like tape or books.”

“Thank you. Is that really too much to ask?”

I slid my hand back into the box and groped around, feeling papers and maybe a pen or two. “Nothing.” I picked up the box and set it on the ground, pushing it against the wall so I didn’t trip over it trying to walk around in the dark.

After another three boxes, I finally hit pay dirt. “Here, hold this.”

“You know, the last time a guy told me that, I was not happy with what I was being handed.”

I smirked at the laughter in her voice. “Was it a tarantula?”

“You know, I never realized you had a funny side.”

“Oh, I’m hilarious,” I muttered, handing over a small box. I heard clanking around in the box. Small plastic objects that felt like tea lights. I flipped them over, finding the switch at the back, praying they still worked. The tiniest glimmer of light appeared before me and I held it up, smiling when I saw Isla’s face for the first time. “Look at that.”

“Well, it’s not a flashlight, but it’s something.”

“There are more in here. Let’s spread them out so we can see around this place.”

Over the next twenty minutes, I dug through the box and grabbed every tea light I could find, which was a hell of a lot. Whoever this stuff belonged to must have been obsessed with this shit.

“That’s all in this box.”

“Maybe the next box will have a crowbar,” she said excitedly, tearing into the next box with little hesitation. Her lips quirked up when she pulled garland from the next box. “I have a feeling this is the remnants of someone’s Christmas stuff.”

“Well, when we get bored, we can bring a little cheer to this place.”

Together, we opened every single box on the pallet, but there was nothing but Christmas decorations in them. And by the time we were done tearing the pallet apart, we had nothing to show for it but Christmas lights, a tree, and box after box of decorations.

“That’s it,” I sighed. “The last box.”

“We could use the tree stand to beat the door down.”

“Maybe it would alert someone we’re here, but I doubt we’d break the door down with it.”

Though, I highly doubted anyone would hear us. I’d been straining to hear anything outside and had yet to hear a thing. It seemed unlikely that whoever took us would put us somewhere we could be found.

She shivered, rubbing her hands together. “Let’s go make some noise. I’m ready to get out of here.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was unlikely we’d get out of here—not when there was still a smile on her face. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

Hours had passed.

Both of us were freezing and hungry. We’d given up banging on the door about twenty minutes ago. I could see it in her eyes, the hope slowly draining as she realized no one was outside and coming to save us. But there was no way I was going to sit down and give up, not when I could keep a smile on her face for a little longer.

“Come on. Let’s pull out some of those decorations.”

“What’s the point?” she asked, rubbing her hands together.

I strode over to her, taking her hands in mine. I rubbed them, trying to work some warmth into them. When she still shivered, I brought her hands to my mouth and blew into them, then pulled her into my arms. She wrapped her arms around my back, holding me tight. I ran my hands up and down her back, trying to keep her warm.

“We should keep moving so the cold doesn’t get to us.”

“Fine,” she grumbled. “But if you find a mistletoe, I’m not kissing you to stay warm.”

“We don’t have to kiss to stay warm.” I didn’t mean for it to slip out, but ever since that night she stayed with me—when she wore my shirt and I felt her smooth skin against my fingertips—that was all I could think about. I took her home to get rid of her, not because she was ready to leave. Because I knew that if she stayed with me, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself.

So, when she buried her face in my chest, I held her tight and imagined what it would be like if she wasn’t clinging to me for warmth and comfort, but because she wanted me. The moment she pulled away, I knew it was all a really fucking good dream that would never come true, especially considering the circumstances we were in.

“Okay, let’s see if we can cheer this place up a little,” she smiled, avoiding my eyes.

I followed her over to the boxes and helped her pull out the garland and lined it along the walls on the floor. Without the lights, it left a lot to be desired, but Isla made the best of it and placed the tea lights in the garland for added effect.

“There. What do you think?”

“It’s nice. I like it.”

“Should we put up the tree?” she asked, pulling out the connecting branches.

“Yeah, why not.”

She started handing me things, but I didn’t have the first fucking clue what to do. When I just stood there holding all the pieces, she quirked an eyebrow at me. “You can start putting it together.”

I shifted uncomfortably, for the first time in my life feeling completely out of my element. “Uh…I don’t actually know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Any of this.”

“You’ve never put up a tree?”

I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Never had one.”

“At all?” she asked, her jaw dropping in shock.

“Is that a big deal?”

“Well, are you Jewish or something?”

“Nope. Just never had a tree.” There was so much she didn’t know about me, but that wasn’t unusual. I didn’t get close to anyone. I didn’t like people seeing the real me, and not because I was afraid of relationships or anything like that, but because I played a good game. I was really a shell of a man—a hollow human form with no real connection to anyone or anything.

She skipped over the obvious questions and took the pieces of the tree from me, walking over to the wall near some of the garland she had spread out. “The tree stand goes first.”

“Obviously,” I grinned at her.

“Okay, hand me the one on the ground.”

I did as she asked, handing her one piece after another. It was a fairly simple setup, and when it was all together, it seemed rather idiotic that I hadn’t been able to figure that out on my own.

Standing, she smiled at the sad tree. “It’s a shame there’s no power. I bet it would be a beautiful tree all lit up.”

“Is it supposed to look so skimpy?”

“Well, you have to fan out the branches. It’s been all scrunched up. If we were at my house, I would spend probably an hour just on making this tree look perfect and full.”

“Then what would you do?” I asked, watching her as she stared at the tree with a smile on her face. It was like she could see it coming to life in front of her. I absently reached up and pressed against a growing ache in my chest.

“Well, you have to do the lights next. Some people just wind them around the tree like psychos. But I would feed them in and out of each branch, wrapping them around each one to give the illusion that they’re lit from the inside out.”

“And then?” I could stand here for hours and listen to her talk about decorating the Christmas tree. I’d never seen anyone get so worked up over the proper way to put up a tree. I found it amusing and confounding at the same time.

“The garland goes next. Some people like tinsel. My grandma used to have us spread tinsel all over the tree, but it caused a horrible mess.”

“And what do you prefer?”

“Well, that depends on the theme of the year.”

“There’s a theme?”

“Of course,” she said, her eyes lighting up even in the darkness. “Some people like the classic gold garland with a colorful tree. I would go with color lights in that case. Then there’s the blue and white theme, which only has white lights and it looks best on a white tree.”

“Isn’t a white tree kind of…anti-Christmas?”

She gasped, turning a glare on me. “I won’t have you speak ill of the blue and white tree. It’s amazing and beautiful.”

I held up my hands to let her know I wouldn’t broach the subject again.

“But my personal favorite is the red and white tree. I’d like a big one—like nine feet tall. I’ve only ever had a six-foot tree.”

“Real or fake?”

“Sadly, I’ve only ever had fake trees. But I always thought it would be fun to go cut down my own tree. Shawn and I tried it once, but it was a disaster. And then he always told me he was too busy to do it. I think he really just didn’t want to fail at it again.”

“How do you fail at chopping down a tree?”

I caught the slight twitch of her lips as she turned to me. “He couldn’t chop it down with an axe.”

“When we get out of here, I’ll chop down a tree for you.”

“But then you have to help me decorate it.”

I scoffed at that. “Right, like I’d get between you and Riley.”

Her smile faded some as she turned back to the pallet. I watched as she started sorting through the things, how the smallest thing would earn a twitch of her lips or a bright smile. It made my chest ache to know that if no one found us, this would be the last time she ever put up a Christmas tree.

“Look at this!”

I walked over to her and looked at the picture she held in her hands. It was difficult to see everyone in the dim tea light, but it was clear they were all happy.

“This must have been about forty years ago,” she murmured. “Look at that hair!”

“Not the most stylish,” I said as I stepped away from the picture. The man in the photograph reminded me a little too much of someone I once knew. And I didn’t want to think about him, not now when?—

I tore off a piece of wood from the pallet and stalked to the other side of the container, slamming it against the door. Someone had to hear us. This would not be how it all ended.