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I lock eyes with her, silently conveying my determination to uphold our pact. I pray she finds strength in that, because she will need it.
Our pact goes against my very nature to protect and save, but I gave my word.
I swore a solemn vow.
I’m going to watch them torture her, and I’m going to do it because I’m desperately in love with her.
The urge to vomit nearly overwhelms me.
The guard sneers at me, his sadistic pleasure evident. He cracks his knuckles, the sound reverberating through the room, a prelude to the brutality to come. His voice is cold, devoid of empathy, as he taunts me with his words.
“Let’s see how long your resolve holds, Guardian. We’ll break you, one way or another.” His cutting voice slices through the oppressive silence. “You have information on Artemus Gonzales’s operations. We want to know what your organization is planning.”
“Alec…” Barbi’s plea cuts through the haze of fear. The weight of her words—the promise she asked me to make—settles on my shoulders like a crushing yoke. But I respect her strength, and the resolve she summons despite her fear.
“I’ve got nothing for you.” My voice is a grating whisper, intertwined with pain and stubbornness. My jaw aches, a painful reminder of their previous handiwork. My eyes stay locked on the guard. I won’t show them I’m hurting. I won’t give them that.
A muscle twitches in his jaw. “We’ve got ways to get you talking.” His gaze flicks to Barbi and my heart skips a beat.
The human in me says they wouldn’t dare, but these men are monsters. They will do that and more. That chilling thought is what erodes my will, dragging me into a spiral of dread.
I don’t know if I can keep my promise.
Without warning, the guard drives his fist into my gut. A rough punch, unprovoked, just because he can. The air leaves my lungs in a painful rush, my vision blurs momentarily. My mind screams in silent protest, but I bite back a grunt of pain. I won’t give them the satisfaction. Not now, not ever.
The questions come in a rapid-fire onslaught; a barrage of inquiries designed to chip away at my defenses. They employ various tactics, each one more brutal than the last. Blows rain down upon me, fists slamming into my gut, pain reverberating through my body. But I grit my teeth, refusing to yield.
Through the haze of agony, I catch glimpses of Barbi. Her torment mirrors mine, the guards using her suffering as a tool to extract the answers they seek. Every cry of pain that escapes her lips sends a surge of anguish coursing through me.
But I can’t fail. I can’t let them see my weakness, my desperation. I need to remain steadfast, to protect her, even at the cost of my own well-being—and hers.
This could easily cost her her life.
I’m caught in the middle of an impossible situation; a choice no sane man should ever have to make.
The room becomes a battleground, the echoes of screams and pleas intertwining with the acrid scent of sweat and fear. The guards revel in their sadistic power, their eyes glinting with perverse satisfaction. But I remain resolute, my spirit unyielding in the face of their cruelty. Time loses all meaning in that room. Minutes blend into hours, a never-ending cycle of torment and defiance becomes our universe.
The guards grow frustrated, their attempts to break me prove futile. They resort to even more ruthless tactics, pushing the boundaries of cruelty. But I’m determined to keep my promise to Barbi, not to protect her, but to save others.
As the interrogation continues, I steal glances at Barbi, her face contorts with pain. She endures their torment with a strength that both inspires and breaks my heart. I silently mouth words of encouragement, willing her to stay strong.
In that room, where hope seems like a distant memory, our love becomes our strength. It fuels our determination, our unwavering resolve to emerge from this darkness together. We cling to the promise we made.
And slowly, finally, our interrogator’s expression darkens. His patience wears thin. He turns toward me, invading my personal space.
The interrogator’s voice becomes a low, menacing whisper, his words intended to manipulate and intimidate. “Guardian, your precious woman is quite vulnerable. A delicate flower, easily broken. We wouldn’t want any harm to come to her, would we? There are other ways to hurt a woman.”
I clench my fists and bite down on my teeth. That’s the one thing that will break me.
But Barbi’s plea rings in my head. With a gut-wrenching swallow, I speak the only words I can. “You’ll get nothing from me.”
The interrogator’s facade crumbles, replaced by a mask of fury. He steps back, his face contorted with rage, and gestures to his accomplice. The second guard moves swiftly toward me, his intentions clear. I brace myself, summoning all the strength I can, determined to outlast their fury.
They tire shortly thereafter and drag us back to our respective cells.
TWENTY-NINE
Alec