Page 129 of Cavern of Silence

Pull it together. If you don't, Ryker doesn't stand a chance of being rescued.

My workday starts at three in the afternoon, and I'll be flying throughout the night. I get up and go to the bathroom. When I look in the mirror, I don't recognize myself. My lip is split open, and my nose is so swollen, I can't tell if it's broken. My left eye was closed for days but has opened up into a slit. Black, blue, and yellow marks are all over my face.

All staring in the mirror does is make me cry harder and ask myself for the hundredth time,Why couldn't he let me die and save himself?

I do my best to wash off the week-old blood caked on my skin, and I wince in pain.

Maybe your face will keep the ruthless men from harassing you on the planes.

Doubt it. They will use it to break you further.

Am I broken again?

When I met Ryker, I was a lost woman, hopeless and shattered. Piece by piece, he put me back together. With him, I was whole. And I don't want to go on anymore without him.

You have to try and save him.

You cannot let them break you again.

I continue scraping hardened blood off my face and get in the shower, but I lose it and crouch on the floor, trying to breathe again.

Be strong for Ryker. He needs you not to crumble right now.

I get out of the shower and go lie down in bed, but I don't sleep. For hours, I try to figure out how I can get to Bermuda, where the guys are, or Honduras to Tinker's.

But there are no answers.

When the afternoon comes, I do my hair, put on my uniform, and walk through the hotel, avoiding the glances of horror from the guests and workers. When I step outside, a black car waits at the curb, and a sign for the airline I work for is in the window.

My stomach flips, and my chest tightens. The nerves I always felt going to work disappeared with Ryker, but they come flying back. I sit in the car with my hands over my swollen face, wincing in pain, and taking deep breaths, trying not to have a panic attack.

Stay strong for Ryker.

The trip to the private airport isn't long. When I board the plane, the pilot grimaces. "Julieta, you're alive. But what did they do to your face?"

He's the same man who left me on my own on the Venezuelan tarmac when Santiago kidnapped me. Roman and I have flown all over Latin America for the last six years together. He's egotistical and a male chauvinist and never had any issues doing the minimum work required. As a pilot, he has skills I don't and is seen as more valuable to the Global Leaders. The one time I approached him about what was going on, he told me to do my job and not cause trouble. After our conversation, I talked to my boss, and when I told him, he said I was playing with fire.

I don't reply and remove a trash bag from the cubby hole and do a walk-through, picking up the litter that the last crew didn't clean up.

"Julieta!" he barks.

I spin. "What does it look like they did to me?"

He steps forward and tries to embrace me, but I push him away. "Do not touch me."

He holds his hands in the air. "Okay. I'm...fuck, Julieta. I've been so worried about you, but...tell me what happened."

All the anger I've bottled up about his previous actions comes to the surface. "Why? So you can turn the other way, like you always do?"

"Julieta, I'm sorry."

"No, you aren't. As far as I know, you set me up to be on that tarmac on my own when Santiago kidnapped me."

His face drains. "Santiago Gómez?"

"Yeah. What other Santiago would have any interest in me?"

"Did they find you with him before they killed him?"