Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

The next morning, Emily's mouth was so dry she couldn't swallow, her lips were cracked, and she could hardly stand. The red water in the toilet was starting to look like her only option to end the misery. That, or attack a guard and pray they killed her.

No, she told herself, they're trying to turn you into an animal. Even if she smelled like one due to the lack of showers, she could not let them break her. She could not lose hope.

Around eight a.m., the guard Roberts showed up with her tray of inedible food and juice that wasn't juice.

"Hey," Emily whispered as the slot opened, "whatever they're paying you per year, I'll double it. No, I'll triple it. I just need a favor."

Roberts shook her head. "Not interested."

"This is a legitimate offer. All you need to do is post a message on a website. That's it. And bring me some clean water."

"Fuck you," Roberts said.

"Name your price."

"I'm not risking my ass for a cop killer."

"I didn't kill a cop."

"Then why are you in here?" she asked.

"I don't fucking know. But I wasn't given a lawyer or a trial. All I'm asking you to do is post a message so a friend knows where I am. That's it. It's not even illegal."

Roberts looked both ways. "Even if you are telling the truth, I can't risk losing my job. The warden made it clear what would happen if anyone helped you."

"Five hundred thousand dollars," Emily blurted out. "For two minutes of your time and a glass of clean water."

Roberts blinked. She was definitely considering it. "How would you get me the money?"

"The message you post will be for a friend. Once she sees it, she'll find me. Once she does, I'll tell her where the cash is, and she'll give you the money."

"What happens if your friend doesn't show?"

"Then I'll tell you where the money is. You can go get it yourself."

"Tell me now." She narrowed her eyes.

"I'm desperate, but not stupid."

Roberts closed the slot and started walking away.

"Wait!" Emily pounded on the door. "Come back!" Emily watched her hope fade from view. "Come back!" Emily collapsed on the cot, feeling the fight inside her die. I give up. I fucking give up .

Like the guard said on Emily's first day here, it was time to make peace with God.

***

Hours later, a loud clanking on the metal door woke Emily from her daze. She slowly opened her dry eyes, spotting Roberts standing outside. A tray sat in the slot with a bottle of water.

Emily jumped to her feet and scurried over, only to watch Roberts pull the tray back.

"I want cash within twenty-four hours," she said. "If I don't get it, I'm going to have you transferred to the other solitary—the one without a bed or window—and I'll see you're given half a cup of water a day." She raised a brow as Emily's foggy mind tried to sort through the meaning.

"Just enough to keep me alive a little longer," Emily concluded.

"That's right, cop killer."

"I didn't…" Emily's voice faded off. Roberts wasn't going to believe her, nor was she going to send a message to Olivia out of the kindness of her heart. This was a business transaction. "I agree. Twenty-four hours."

"Even if your friend never comes, I get my money."

Emily nodded.

"Good, because if they find out I'm doing this, and I go down, you will wish you never had this water." The guard slid the tray back toward Emily.

Who is they? Emily grabbed the bottle, chugging it down. The refreshing liquid slid down her throat, sparking her soul back to life. She instantly felt the moisture absorbing into her cells.

"Hide that bottle under the cot," said Roberts. "Give me, and only me, the empty bottle tomorrow."

"Okay."

"What's this website, and what's your message?"

Emily let out a sigh of relief. She gave Roberts the info to log in. It was a florist site, and each bouquet or flower placed on the home page was a code for the suite forty-five team. For example, violets meant "all clear" after an event where the team needed to lie low. A bouquet of red roses with baby's breath was an alert to stay cautious because the team's primary location had been compromised. There was no code for "Help! I've been framed for murder and am being held in prison," so she'd just have to use real words.

"Just post, ‘To Olivia: Emily Wilson detained. Vanderhorst Supermax. Boss in on it. Needs lawyer.'"

Roberts's expression turned flat, like she was trying to mask a reaction. "Emily Wilson. Your name is Emily Wilson?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I thought your name was Justine Hays," said Roberts.

"It used to be—never mind. Will you post the message?"

Roberts eyed her with a strange almost nervous expression. "Sure, sweetheart."

Emily sighed with relief. "Thank you."

Now, all she needed was to survive another day. Olivia would see the message, and if she didn't, someone on the team would. They'd know that Charge had betrayed her, that he'd had her imprisoned under a fake conviction.

Roberts left, and Emily sat down to finish her water. She needed more, but this bottle was her lifeline to buying time.

What she still couldn't wrap her mind around was why Charge would do this after she'd saved his life? The betrayal cut deep into the fibers of her soul. In some strange way, it hurt as badly as her past with Ed.

Maybe because while she'd feared Ed every minute of the day, she'd never respected him. Charge had been different. He was a man who didn't believe in backing down no matter how difficult, bloody, or painful the situation got. It took a special breed of person to accept a life of killing for what one believed in and killing to protect something you loved—be it a person, your family, or a community under siege by criminals.

The average man or woman could probably shoot an intruder, though they might hesitate to pull the trigger before doing it. They might struggle with the notion of ending a life, even if the act was justified.

But people like Charge had arrived at a philosophical place in life where they saw things clearly. They understood what it meant to be a lion whose job was protecting the pack. Charge had once told her she was a lion, too, and the sooner she accepted it, the sooner she'd find peace.

Initially, Emily had outright rejected his words and left El Paso but ended up returning after killing a man in a bus station bathroom in Denver. It was an incident she'd tried to block out of her head a million times. The man in question had been in the process of raping a poor woman in the next stall. Emily hadn't enjoyed pulling the trigger, yet the act gave her clarity. She was a lion. And despite her insecurities, baggage, and pain, she would never hesitate to step up to protect another person. Even other lions. Like Charge.

That was the crux of it.

Charge had seen her for who she truly was. He'd set her on a path to discover what she was made of. For this, she respected him despite his ambivalence toward killing—a trait that would terrify the average person. She saw beyond his profession and hard shell and sought to understand him as a means of understanding herself. She'd looked up to him.

That was why his betrayal hurt worse than anything Ed had ever done. She'd trusted Charge. I put my life on the line for him. She never would've done that for Ed.

Emily lay back on the hard, thin mattress, staring up at the discolored ceiling. There had been moments back at the cabin when she'd wanted to let Charge into her heart. She'd even slept in his bed a few times for the first week. She told herself it was to comfort him, but that was just another lie. Curling up to his strong body at night was the safest she'd felt in years. It was like sleeping with a god of war sent to earth to protect her.

No, not protect her. To show her how to protect herself.

She sighed, forlorn. "Why, Charge?" Why throw me away like this? Part of her knew the answer didn't matter. It wouldn't change the situation.

If Roberts didn't come through, she would die in here, and no one would care. Just another forgotten girl who became a forgotten woman crushed by an uncaring world.