Juliette shifted uneasily. The heat was oppressive, and the air felt thick as she took deep breaths through the fabric clamped over her face. The zip-ties binding her hands had long since numbed them, aching from being crushed beneath her for so long. She tried to roll onto her side but the confined space of the trunk thwarted her efforts.
They had been driving for nearly two hours now. Juliette had mentally sung "Tiny Dancer" twenty-one times in a bid to estimate their travel distance. She wasn't alone; Hunter was in the trunk too, probably in worse shape than she was.
On her twenty-second silent rendition, Juliette began to hum aloud. Midway through the first verse, Hunter chimed in, and despite her gag, Juliette managed a relieved smile. Her mouth was stuffed with socks that made her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk's. She unsuccessfully tried multiple times to push them out with her tongue but the tightly tied pillowcase kept them firmly in place and left her jaw aching.
They completed three more rounds of "Tiny Dancer" and were beginning a fourth when the car finally stopped. The steady anxiety gnawing at Juliette's chest flared into near-painful intensity.
The trunk lid flew open and a man yanked Juliette out by her feet. As she was pulled past Hunter and out of the car, she fought back fiercely, but it was no use. He hooked his arm through hers and forced her forward. Despite all her struggling, it was futile; blindfolded by the pillowcase, escape wasn't an option.
The man halted without warning and Juliette stumbled nearly falling over. He fiddled with what sounded like chains before dragging open a heavy door. Tripping over the threshold, she scraped her knees on coarse carpet as he hauled her across the floor. When he stopped again, Juliette heard chains jangling ominously before a heavy shackle clamped around her right ankle. As his footsteps faded away, she knew she was alone.
With relative ease, she removed the pillowcase from her face and spat out the socks. Her tongue ran over dry lips cracked from dehydration. Slowly adjusting to the dim light, she realized she was inside what seemed to be either a sound-proofed room or maybe even a shipping container-turned-prison cell. Horror washed over her as she took in her surroundings: this place resembled nothing less than a torture chamber.
Ropes and chains hung from hooks on the walls while knives and various instruments of pain were locked behind glass cases in a large wire crate like one used for aggressive dogs — though now wasn't the time for thoughts about old family pets like Hound.
Menacing hooks anchored into the floor added to the room's nefarious purpose. Above, a hook on a chain dangled from a pulley on the ceiling—the harrowing scene could easily have come straight from one of Celine's twisted rescue novels.
The man appeared in the doorway once more, this time dragging a large duffel bag that unmistakably held Hunter. He hurled the bag forward, and Juliette let out a whimper as it—and consequently, Hunter—hit the ground with a resounding thud. The man slammed the trailer doors shut and kicked at the bag to maneuver it towards the wall near Juliette, where chains lay in wait for their captive. The bag rolled over with each harsh kick. Acting on impulse, Juliette rushed forward to intervene, but the chains around her ankle jerked her to the ground, landing her on her hands. She pleaded for him to stop, but he only kicked harder.
The bag finally reached its destined spot after what seemed like an eternity. Yet, the man delivered one final kick for good measure. Now closer, Juliette observed Hunter recoiling from the assault. The man unzipped the duffel bag, causing Hunter to spill onto the floor. He padlocked two chains hooked to the wall onto Hunter's wrists despite them already being cuffed behind him.
He knelt before Hunter and forced his chin up so their eyes met. "You can't imagine how long I've waited for this, kid," he said almost gleefully before slugging him across the face.
"Stop it!" Juliette screamed.
The man ignored her and hit Hunter again, sending him sprawling across the floor. "You've been a thorn in my side for too damn long."
Suddenly and almost laughably too late in hindsight, Juliette realized who their captor was. She had earlier dismissed his voice as imagined familiarity. Her jaw dropped in shock. Shoving someone down a flight of stairs in rage (though inexcusable and vile) was one thing; but kidnapping and torturing someone was entirely another.
Juliette and her sisters had joked about Derick Staples murdering Hunter for years, yet none of them considered it a serious possibility—not even remotely. She never thought Derick was that deranged. But now it seemed he was far worse than they had ever imagined.
Juliette snapped out of her stupor when Derick's foot struck Hunter's ribcage again.
"You're pathetic," Derick spat at him. "This is just the beginning." He prepared for another kick.
Juliette threw herself in front of Hunter.
The kick knocked the breath out of her. She lay sprawled over Hunter, gasping for air and wracked with pain but relieved to have taken the blow meant for him. She had just managed to reach him at the end of her chain.
"Move aside," Derick snarled at her.
"No!" Juliette wheezed through ragged breaths.
Derick cursed and grabbed her ankle chain, pulling her back forcefully. Juliette flung her bound hands over Hunter's head and clung on tightly. Her leg lifted off the ground as Derick yanked harder against her chain, but she only clutched Hunter tighter. She refused to give up that easily.
Ultimately, it was Derick who capitulated. He released his grip on her and retreated, muttering, "Stubborn piece of shit."
Juliette spun her head around without releasing Hunter. "Proudly," she responded breathlessly but defiantly.
Derick glared at her, and she returned the glare. As he exited, he shouted back, "Consider my promise kept, Hunter. Consider it fucking kept."
Juliette had no idea what he meant, but for now, it wasn't important. The sound of the doors locking behind Derick brought her immense relief. She disentangled herself from Hunter and carefully propped him up. She tore off the blue ribbon from his face so it hung limply around his neck. He spat out the socks from his mouth, rolling away as he coughed violently and struggled for air. Though Juliette thought he might vomit, he didn't.
"Fuck that," rasped Hunter once he'd caught his breath enough to speak. He turned back to Juliette.
The left side of Hunter's face was red from the punches. Juliette was certain a bruise would appear within the hour. She turned away to hide her tears, but he noticed them anyway. He always did. She reminded herself not to feel embarrassed; if ever there was a time for tears, this was it.
"Don't cry," Hunter said gently. "Please don't."
"I'm not." Juliette wiped away her tears, but more quickly followed. "I can't help it."
She wrapped her arms around his neck—difficult with her hands still bound—and pulled him into her chest as best she could. He buried his face in her hair and took a deep, trembling breath. Juliette remained silent for a long time; she knew speaking would result in uncontrollable sobbing. So they sat in silence, each trying to be strong for the other. Juliette rested her chin on his shoulder, her eyes fixed on the restraints clamping his wrists together—the handcuffs binding them behind him, the chains tethering him to the wall. She felt nauseated; this couldn't be real life. Reality didn't involve her best friend being tied up.
Then Juliette sought confirmation she didn't truly need: "Was that—"
"Derick?" Hunter finished for her. "Yeah."
Juliette scoffed, almost disbelieving despite having already figured it out. She slid her fingers under the collar around his neck. Although it was locked in place, she still tried to tear it off him. She pulled at the strap with all her strength against the buckle, but it wouldn't budge—it only jerked Hunter's head forward.
He let her try a few times before saying, "It's okay. Just leave it."
"No, it's not. It's fucking not," Juliette protested, tugging on it again only for her fingers to slip away. They were raw and bleeding. She ran the leash through her hand, verifying it was real and not a manifestation of her nightmares. She couldn't figure out how to unhook it either. With a pained gasp, she let it fall as though it burned her. "It's not okay," she insisted, tears welling up in her eyes. Lowering her gaze, she held back her sobs, unable to see him like this. He wasn't a fucking animal.
She buried her face into Hunter's neck, feeling the leather against her cheek. "What did he mean?" she asked, her breath fluttering against his skin and bouncing back at her. "Consider what promise kept?"
Hunter sighed deeply and leaned back so Juliette would release him from her grip. He tucked his knees into his chest, staring down at his feet. "What do you think? He said he'll kill me." Now Hunter looked at her, and Juliette almost wished he hadn't. Despite his efforts to appear brave, fear was evident in his eyes. "I didn't know he was fucking serious."
All the air seemed to leave Juliette's lungs, leaving them incapable of expanding. "No. No, I won't let him," she whispered more to convince herself than him. "I'll be dead before that happens."
Hunter heard that part clearly. He straightened up instinctively, trying to get closer to her. He always put his hands on her shoulders when he wanted to ensure she listened but couldn't now; the chains pulled tight, forcing his arms nearly perpendicular to his back and causing him to wrench at the waist so his shoulders wouldn't tear. Juliette looked away from the sight of him struggling but couldn't escape the sound of clinking chains. She could cry so easily if she let herself—she'd give up all four of her limbs if Derick would just release Hunter.
Once settled, Hunter said softly, "You aren't a part of this. I won't—"
"Derick is delusional," Juliette cut in fiercely, not directing her anger at Hunter but resolute in not letting him argue with her. "He's out of his fucking mind. Clinically insane! He doesn't get to kill you."
Hunter's eyes darted around the room before landing on Derick's sinister tools a fraction longer than anywhere else. His pallor made it painful for Juliette to look at him directly. "It's easy to guess what he wants with me." He turned his gaze toward Juliette earnestly. "I want you to let it happen."
"No," Juliette interjected sharply before he could finish. "That's not who I am."
"I know that," Hunter replied quietly, desperation seeping into his voice as he pleaded, "but I'm asking you anyway. Juliette, please."
"No." Juliette intended to sound resolute, more assertive and angry. Instead, her voice came out feeble, and she lost control. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I don't want him to hurt you," she sobbed in a shattered whisper. He already had. Hunter's cheekbone was swelling, turning a dark shade of purple as blood pooled beneath the skin. Juliette gingerly brushed her fingertips over the emerging bruise and then let her hands fall. She gripped each of the chains extending from his bound hands, stretching her wrists against the restraints, but she didn't let that deter her. She tugged at them, hopelessly wishing they were loosely attached to the wall. Her tears flowed more rapidly as she pulled repeatedly until they slipped from her grasp and blurred her vision. Momentum thrust her backward, and she landed on her back at Hunter's feet. She cradled her face in her hands, ignoring the zip-tie cutting into her wrists as her tears dripped down and off the heels of her palms.
"I think he's got me pretty well secured," Hunter remarked.
"Stop." Her plea was more a whimper than a word; she couldn't bear to hear him say it.
Hunter's arms twitched; he yearned to hug her, to reassure that everything would be okay. The desire pained him as much as it did Juliette, who wished so desperately he could. He winced and clenched his jaw in frustration when the handcuffs held his arms firmly behind him. He nudged Juliette with his foot. "Can you listen to me?"
Juliette nodded, drying out her eyes.
"Look at you, then look at me," Hunter said, his voice laden with fear.
Juliette attempted a joke to lighten the mood. "You sound like that Old Spice commercial - 'Look at your man, now back at me, now back at your man', or something like that."
"Juliette," said Hunter seriously.
"Sorry. What?"
"It's clear he's only after me. He might spare you if you don't interfere."
He was right; he already bore the brunt worse than she did. Still, Juliette resolved to obstruct Derick whenever possible. Hunter held her gaze earnestly; he knew what she was thinking. "You shouldn't even be here."
"I'm glad I am," Juliette replied fiercely. "I'd rather be here with you than waiting somewhere else wondering if you were dead." Juliette swallowed hard and shoved that grim thought aside. "That would kill me faster than Derick ever could."
She offered Hunter a small but humorous smile that he didn't return. Leaning back against the wall to ease his discomfort, he grit his teeth in pain; Juliette abruptly remembered his bruised ribs. Her concern must have been evident because Hunter promptly assured her he was fine. Juliette didn't argue but felt a wave of nausea wash over her.
"I need you to promise me something," said Hunter.
Juliette nodded; there wasn't anything she wouldn't promise him that night.
"He must never know," Hunter urged, his voice thick with urgency. "About my feelings. Absolutely never, okay?"
"Alright."
"Seriously," Hunter pressed on. "He holds me responsible for the divorce. If he discovers how I—" He stopped abruptly.
"I despise discussing this, you know that." Juliette fiddled with the zip-ties around his ankles but achieved nothing. "Why would I ever bring it up again?" Sure, she had been the one to mention it earlier that evening, but that was an exception. She had no intention of doing it again.
"Just swear to me."
"I swear. Grier Family Honor." Juliette couldn't resist adding, "Do or die."
Hunter felt let down by her inclusion of that phrase, but for some reason, Juliette found it amusing. It wasn't a long or genuine laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless. She half-expected Hunter to reprimand her, but he chose to remain silent.
Juliette's brief amusement faded as quickly as it had come. She realized she should be glad to find anything to laugh about, even if it was inappropriate.
"I was coming back upstairs," said Juliette. "To apologize."
Hunter was taken aback—not by her remorse, perhaps—but by the fact she brought it up at all considering the circumstances. For Juliette, though, now seemed as good a time as any.
"It doesn't matter now," Hunter replied.
"It does to me. I called Celine; she knocked some sense into me." Juliette frowned, contemplating if that conversation would be her last with her younger sister.
"Good ol' Celine." Hunter's tone mirrored her thoughts.
Juliette pressed on. "She said it's tough to tell if I still care about you. But I do. Of course I do. I'm just a hot-headed fool."
Hunter almost smiled. "I know." His face clouded over again. "And even if I doubted it before, it's clear now after all this."
Juliette continued picking at his ankle restraints, biting her lip in concentration and nodding in response. Despite her own bound hands making it difficult, she managed to slide a fingernail under the zip-tie's locking bar and loosened it just enough for Hunter to free his feet.
"If you get a chance to run, take it," Hunter said firmly. "Promise me that too."
Juliette shot down that idea with an emphatic shake of her head. "I won't leave you here."
"If something happens to you—"
Juliette cut him off again. "Do you really think I could live with myself after abandoning you? And then if he…" She couldn't finish the thought. "Hunter." Her stern voice commanded his attention as she grabbed his face and made him look at her. "We both survive this or we both die together."
"Juliette…" His eyes welled with tears.
"Shut up," Juliette said firmly as she lowered her hands and curled up beside him. "We're in this together. End of discussion."