‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, raising his head.
‘No, don’t be sorry. You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I don’t know what to say. I can’t imagine…’ she started.
‘I think about it every day. I relive it every day, and I’ve closed myself off to everyone and everything since it happened. I take the jobs no one else wants. I do the stuff most people are too afraid to do, because I don’t care… I just don’t care.’
Autumn nodded.
‘Autumn, I don’t understand what’s happening here, with us. I really don’t,’ he said, shaking his head.
She met his eyes with hers.
‘All I know is that, you’ve changed something… You’ve changed me. I feel things when I’m with you that I haven’t felt since… I lost my family.’
‘You don’t have to say anything more,’ she told him.
‘Yeah, I do. I have to tell you that, whether or not we make it out of here, what I feel for you…’ he started then put his hand to her face, cupping her cheek in his palm, running his thumb over her lips. ‘I can’t describe it,’ he whispered.
She put her hands around his neck and clung to him, holding his body tight to hers. At that moment, she didn’t want to be anywhere else. Being with him, no matter where it was, had become paramount in her life. She needed him, his deep-rooted values, his strong heart and solid beliefs, not to mention his athletic body and slightly warped sense of humor. He was almost her opposite, but there was far more than just attraction.
‘I will do my best to get us out of this,’ he said, close to her ear.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she answered, breathing in the scent of him.
He moved her away from his shoulder and looked at her. ‘It matters more than ever. I couldn’t save Carolyn or Marie. I had no chance. But we’ve still got a chance.’
She looked back at him, not seeing his injuries, but drinking in everything she could about him. His dark, choppy hair, the way his eyebrows arched above those gold-flecked eyes, his Roman nose, his full lips, the stubble on his cheeks and chin. She wanted to look at him forever, and if their forever wasn’t going to be so long, she wanted to remember every detail.
‘What’s your real name, Autumn?’ he asked, stroking a hand down her hair.
‘I thought you’d done your homework before this job and knew everything there was to know about me,’ she answered with a smile.
‘I might have skim-read the file.’
She smiled at him then straightened her expression. ‘It’s Claire, with an “i”,’ she informed him.
‘Claire,’ he said, running his hand along her arm and catching hold of her hand again.
‘Yes. Not really showbiz material, is it?’
‘I like it,’ he told her.
‘My dad chose it. It was his grandmother’s name.’
Her father. Was he going to come for her? Did he know she was here yet? It felt like they had been imprisoned for a week, but probably something less than twelve hours had gone by.
‘If he sees the plea, he’ll come,’ Nathan said, as if reading her mind.
‘But at what cost?’
‘He’s your father. You’re more important to him than anything.’
All at once, she felt so tired. A wave of exhaustion traveled up her body, and she clung to Nathan.
‘You should get some sleep,’ he told her.
‘I’m too scared to close my eyes,’ she admitted.
He stroked his hands down her hair. ‘I’ll be right here.’
Thirty-Nine
Despite her reservations that sleep wouldn’t come, Autumn fell asleep in his arms in minutes. He stroked her injured cheek and bit down on the inside of his mouth. Those bastards had hurt her. He was going to make them pay if it was the last thing he did.
He looked over at the door. It was heavy and metal, but the frame was wooden. If he could just find some way to break into the frame, they might have a chance to escape.
He glanced over at the nail head he had used to cut the rope from his hands. If he could get that out, he could use it. It was miniscule, but there was no other option. He had to try. He had to give them a chance.
He slowly moved Autumn from his embrace and down onto the ground, tucking her arm underneath her head to keep her face off the floor. Then he moved to the nail and took off his shoes. At that second, a thought flashed through his mind, and he looked to Autumn’s feet. The one time he wished she was wearing skyscraper heels she was wearing flats. He took a deep breath, and, having no choice, he started to use his shoe to force the nail out.
*
When she woke up, her cheek was on fire. The whole side of her face felt as if it had been hit by a truck. She sat up, opened and closed her eyes, and tried to shake off the shadow of sleep.
She saw Nathan over by the door. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
‘Trying to get us out of here,’ he replied.
He was sweating and out of breath, and there was a foot-sized gouge in the frame of the door. She got up and went over to him.
‘Nathan, that isn’t going to work. It will take you hours. How long have you been doing this?’ she asked, putting her hand on his back and halting him.
He wiped his brow then continued. ‘No idea,’ he answered. ‘That’s the only good thing about not having a clock in here.’
‘Stop, please. Just stop.’
‘Why? I want to get out of here. Don’t you?’
‘Of course I do, but look at you. Look at your hands, Nathan.’
Both of his hands had been ripped apart by the nail and the force he’d been using to dig at the wood.
‘I made you a promise that I’m going to get you out of
