Chapter10:Thirst and Truth
886 Words
Water arrived after what felt like forever.
A guard slipped in with a plastic bottle and a dented cup. He avoided Selene’s eyes, poured slowly, like looking at her would make him guilty.
Austin leaned as far as the chains allowed. “Slow. She’s been dry for days.”
The guard tilted the cup to her lips. Selene’s hands trembled too much to hold it.
Austin watched every swallow—each one easing the knot in his chest. When she coughed, weak and ragged, panic spiked through him.
“Give her more,” he said sharply.
“She’ll get it later.” The guard pulled back and left. He slammed the door shut. Silence returned.
Selene sagged, breath steadier. Lashes fluttered open.
“You still here?” she whispered.
Austin gave a broken laugh. “Unfortunately for them.”
Her lips twitched—almost a smile—then faded. “Diana wasn’t lying about one thing.”
“Which?”
“My parents.” Voice small. “They were scared before the crash.”
Austin still. “You never said.”
“Didn’t understand then.” She swallowed. “They argued. Whispered and hid papers. Dad said once… ‘If we leave quietly, they’ll let us go.’”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
She shook her head. “Never knew.”
The words hung heavy.
Footsteps echoed above.
Austin leaned closer. “Whatever this is—it didn’t start with us.”
“But it ends with us,” she said softly.
The door opened.
Diana stepped in—alone, irritated, like they’d interrupted her day.
“Good. You’re alive.” Glance at Selene. “Simplifies things.”
Austin tensed. “You got your win. What now?”
Diana tilted her head. “You still think this is about me?”
She circled slowly. “Ask what your parents want.”
“Leave them out.”
“You’re their son.” Smile thin. “They built everything on control. Silence. Cooperation.”
Behind Selene: “And yours believed walking away worked.”
Selene’s breath hitched.
“They were wrong,” Diana said.
Austin strained. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Of course.” She faced him. “Here’s the deal. Sign the papers—I release her. Alive, safe, and untouched.”
Selene shook her head. “Don’t—”
“And then?” Austin asked.
“Marry me. Quietly. Publicly.” Diana shrugged. “She disappears.”
“You won’t kill her.”
“Don’t need to. The world does that for free.”
Selene’s fingers curled. “Austin… don’t.”
He closed his eyes. Opened them.
“Bring the papers.”
Selene’s breath caught. “No—”
“Trust me.”
Diana studied him. Suspicion. Then smile. “I’ll be back.”
When she left, Selene whispered, “What are you doing?”
“Buying time. Information.”
“How?”
“People slip when they think they’ve won.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
He swallowed. “Then I lose everything but you.”
“That’s not nothing.”
The door opened. Diana with a suited man—a lawyer, folder in hand.
“Sign.”
Austin stared at the papers: marriage clauses, silent agreements, his future boxed neat.
He picked up the pen.
Selene’s eyes filled. “Austin…”
He paused. Then signed.
Pen scratched loud.
Diana smiled. “Good.”
“Release her.”
Ropes fell. Selene slumped. Guard caught her arm.
Austin lunged. “Don’t touch her!”
Diana raised a hand. “Somewhere safe.”
She leaned close. “Welcome back to the family.”
As they dragged Selene out, she locked eyes with him.
“I’ll find you,” he said fiercely.
She nodded.
Door closed.
Alone, silence roared.
Diana straightened her coat. “You’ll be escorted home. Rest. Wedding prep.”
“You said release her.”
“I did.” Cool. “Released you from worry.”
His chest tightened. “Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“Not an answer.”
“You don’t get details. Part of the deal.”
Guards unlocked his chains. He staggered up.
“Don’t be foolish,” Diana warned. “You’ve made a choice.”
They escorted him out.
The drive home was quiet—Sydney was alive outside, while he felt hollow inside. The apartment is too quiet, too clean.
Keys dropped. Pace. Phone—no signal. Try again. Nothing.
Anger surged.
Diana never said Selene was free. Only safe.
Phone buzzed—signal back, sudden.
Unknown: She’s on her way to meet your parents. Thought you should know.
Then: Family matters stay in the family.
His blood ran cold.
He grabbed his jacket and ran.
Selene woke to rocking motion. Van. Engine hum. Throat burned. Memory slammed back—chains, signing.
Heart clenched.
Her hands were bound loose this time. Dark, no windows. Fuel smell.
The van stopped.
The door slid open. Cold air. Men pulled her out—into an industrial building, concrete floors, harsh lights.
Was pushed into a small room. Door locked.
She slid down the wall, heaving.
Austin…
Pressed her ears to the door. She heard footsteps. Voices.
Observe, she thought. Parents taught her that.
Vent high. She looked up, the camera flickered.
They wanted her alive. That was leverage.
- Writer
