scars that ran along his back and the backs of his thighs from the strap they’d used hadn’t faded as well.
Why don’t I have those marks?
Caleb would demand.
Because they broke you …
But
You were lucky
, was what Mace would tell him.
“How much does Caleb know, then?” Paige pressed on.
“He knows we went in. But we were separated from one another—at least I know I wasn’t with the rest. Reid says he was unconscious shortly after they put him in a cell and he woke up in the same positionon the floor, right before Caleb ran out with me. I can only tell Caleb what happened to me.”
“But you haven’t told him everything.”
He stared at her. “I couldn’t.”
“You can tell me.”
He looked like he wanted to break her gaze, but he didn’t. “I woke up gasping for air.”
He was sucking wind. The hand he pressed to his throat came back covered in blood and it was then that he saw Caleb coming into the room, holding a bloody knife. As Mace watched helplessly, Caleb moved forward and only when he reached Mace did he seem to remember the knife he held. He stared at it for a second before he threw it on the ground
.
“It’s okay, I’m getting you out of here,” Cael told him, then pressed a cloth to Mace’s throat and picked him up
.
Everything was hazy. He shifted his eyes, refusing to let panic take over when Caleb carried him out … and that’s when he saw Gray’s body, prone on the ground where Caleb must’ve left him. Gray had sustained the same injury as Mace, but hadn’t been nearly as lucky
.
Lucky
.
He laughed as he finished talking, a sharp, bitter sound after he told her what he remembered about those moments, as bitter as the whiskey that now burned in his gut.
Paige looked worried. Scared. And fuck yeah, she should be both of those things, and more.
He heard the explosions next—grenades. AK fire. Shouts. And then Reid burst in, with other men behind him
.
“Mace, we’re rescued. It’s all right.”
Was it? Mace wouldn’t know for sure for a damned long time
.
“It was twenty-four hours before Caleb spoke a single word. Even then none of it made much sense. He was freaked. The only way they could calm him down was to put him in the hospital room with me. Guarding me seemed to ground him, but he didn’t remember anything. He just knew he wasn’t supposed to leave any of us behind.”
“And he didn’t.”
“No.” Despite the massive amount of drugs that lingered in his system, confirmed by various blood tests. “What DMH told me they were doing to him … well, let’s just say they weren’t lying.”
“Why did they target you?”
“They were looking for Kell. He killed one of DMH’s major players last year. But he wasn’t on the mission.” And since then, Kell had been MIA. Though if Mace had to guess, Noah knew exactly where the man was.
No doubt making sure that the men who did this to his team were ripped apart, limb from limb.
Mace wished him all the fucking luck in the world with that task. Wished he could’ve joined him, but realized that his job at the present was of equal, if not greater, importance.
Paige blinked, hard, fast, as if to keep tears at bay. Crying would do neither of them any good, but he wouldn’t blame her if she broke down.
“We were there for three weeks. The DMH men kept telling me that Caleb was doing well with his indoctrination. Fuck, we still don’t know what they fedhim, don’t know the long-term effects beyond the memory loss. Or if the memory loss is from the drugs or the trauma or a combination of them.” He ran a hand through his hair in obvious, heartbreaking frustration.
“What does he remember?”
“He remembers carrying me to safety. There’s no way he would’ve done that if they’d somehow brainwashed him.” Mace sounded more like he was trying to convince them both. “Cael told me later that when he carried me out, he saw Gray and that Gray was already cold. And he kept asking me,
What
Why don’t I have those marks?
Caleb would demand.
Because they broke you …
But
You were lucky
, was what Mace would tell him.
“How much does Caleb know, then?” Paige pressed on.
“He knows we went in. But we were separated from one another—at least I know I wasn’t with the rest. Reid says he was unconscious shortly after they put him in a cell and he woke up in the same positionon the floor, right before Caleb ran out with me. I can only tell Caleb what happened to me.”
“But you haven’t told him everything.”
He stared at her. “I couldn’t.”
“You can tell me.”
He looked like he wanted to break her gaze, but he didn’t. “I woke up gasping for air.”
He was sucking wind. The hand he pressed to his throat came back covered in blood and it was then that he saw Caleb coming into the room, holding a bloody knife. As Mace watched helplessly, Caleb moved forward and only when he reached Mace did he seem to remember the knife he held. He stared at it for a second before he threw it on the ground
.
“It’s okay, I’m getting you out of here,” Cael told him, then pressed a cloth to Mace’s throat and picked him up
.
Everything was hazy. He shifted his eyes, refusing to let panic take over when Caleb carried him out … and that’s when he saw Gray’s body, prone on the ground where Caleb must’ve left him. Gray had sustained the same injury as Mace, but hadn’t been nearly as lucky
.
Lucky
.
He laughed as he finished talking, a sharp, bitter sound after he told her what he remembered about those moments, as bitter as the whiskey that now burned in his gut.
Paige looked worried. Scared. And fuck yeah, she should be both of those things, and more.
He heard the explosions next—grenades. AK fire. Shouts. And then Reid burst in, with other men behind him
.
“Mace, we’re rescued. It’s all right.”
Was it? Mace wouldn’t know for sure for a damned long time
.
“It was twenty-four hours before Caleb spoke a single word. Even then none of it made much sense. He was freaked. The only way they could calm him down was to put him in the hospital room with me. Guarding me seemed to ground him, but he didn’t remember anything. He just knew he wasn’t supposed to leave any of us behind.”
“And he didn’t.”
“No.” Despite the massive amount of drugs that lingered in his system, confirmed by various blood tests. “What DMH told me they were doing to him … well, let’s just say they weren’t lying.”
“Why did they target you?”
“They were looking for Kell. He killed one of DMH’s major players last year. But he wasn’t on the mission.” And since then, Kell had been MIA. Though if Mace had to guess, Noah knew exactly where the man was.
No doubt making sure that the men who did this to his team were ripped apart, limb from limb.
Mace wished him all the fucking luck in the world with that task. Wished he could’ve joined him, but realized that his job at the present was of equal, if not greater, importance.
Paige blinked, hard, fast, as if to keep tears at bay. Crying would do neither of them any good, but he wouldn’t blame her if she broke down.
“We were there for three weeks. The DMH men kept telling me that Caleb was doing well with his indoctrination. Fuck, we still don’t know what they fedhim, don’t know the long-term effects beyond the memory loss. Or if the memory loss is from the drugs or the trauma or a combination of them.” He ran a hand through his hair in obvious, heartbreaking frustration.
“What does he remember?”
“He remembers carrying me to safety. There’s no way he would’ve done that if they’d somehow brainwashed him.” Mace sounded more like he was trying to convince them both. “Cael told me later that when he carried me out, he saw Gray and that Gray was already cold. And he kept asking me,
What
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