Authors: J.D. Thompson
Cole sneered, stalking out of the room. Somehow, he felt like he made a terrible mistake, like he signed his life away. The walk back to his room was painfully quick. Standing outside the door, he pressed his head to the wood, summoning the courage to move forward. He found her at the table, having breakfast. She looked at him, curious.
“Come here, Olivia.” She got up and went to him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her face contorted with worry.
He told her, told her everything. That her brother was there, that he’d come for her, that her father was gone. Her face drained of color. She stood there, painfully still, painfully silent.
“How long have you known?” Her voice was just above a whisper.
He sighed, telling her the truth. She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. He reached out to stroke her cheek, his heart breaking at the sight of her.
“Olivia, I—”
He didn’t expect her to react the way she did so when she swung her fist he wasn’t prepared. She punched him square in the jaw. His head snapped to the side and he slowly turned back to her, rubbing his jaw.
I deserved that, he thought.
“Olivia, I—”
“You fucking bastard,” she cried, crumbling onto the floor.
He was there, on the floor next to her. He reached for her, trying to comfort her, but she pushed him away.
“No! Don’t touch me.” She slapped his hand away as he tried to hold her again. “Leave me the hell alone.”
He opened his mouth, but had nothing to say. The door opened and her brother entered the room.
“That went well,” the man said, kneeling down and cocking his head to look at his sniveling sibling. “Hello, sister.”
She glowered at him, tears still streaming down her face. Suddenly, Cole felt certain he made a horrible mistake. Alistair stood and motioned to one of his men. The guard went to her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to her feet.
“Olivia,” Cole called to her, but she gave him an icy glare.
The guard escorted her out of the room. Carlson was in the hallway, smiling politely and wishing them a safe journey back home.
“Nice doing business with you, Cole,” Alistair said, putting out his hand for Cole to shake goodbye. Cole just starred at his hand, his lips curling in disgust. Alistair smiled and left.
Olivia was escorted to the courtyard and shoved into a waiting carriage. She didn’t look up. She could feel countless eyes on her and couldn’t bring herself to meet their gaze. Two guards sat opposite her. Her brother climbed in next to her. He leaned against the door, giving himself the distance to inspect her. She was a crying mess. She tried to stop, wiping away her tears. Alistair moved a piece of hair out of her face.
“Are you crying for your lost father or lover?” the man asked in an emotionless voice.
“When I left, you were cold. Now, you’re heartless.” She smacked his hand away.
He laughed at her.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked, as the carriage pulled out of the courtyard.
“Don’t worry, dear sister. You’ll see soon enough,” he said, then, he turned to his guards, speaking softly to them.
The ride seemed to last for an eternity. She quelled her tears, but her thoughts kept them dangerously close to the surface. She thought of her father, taking a break from an important meeting to tuck her in to bed, showing her how to ride a horse, kissing her bruises when she fell, kissing her goodbye when she moved Districts. It was almost baffling to think she’d never see him again. It was soul crushing to be sitting next to her murderous brother. Her chest ached as she thought of where the carriage was headed and what it was taking her away from.
After a few hours, they turned onto a dirt road. Guards saluted them as the carriage disappeared into the forest. After a few minutes they came to a stop and her brother pulled her out onto to small road. They walked for about twenty minutes, before coming upon a bustling camp site. A dozen field tents dotted the area and countless soldiers were busy at work cooking, cleaning weapons, and tending to this or that. Alistair nodded to a guard and the man put his fingers in his mouth, giving a loud whistle. The men turned to look at them. Olivia’s stomach turned into a knot. In a moment, Olivia felt as though her situation went from bad to incredibly worse.
“Men,” Alistair yelled. “I’ve returned with my whore of a sister as promised.” Cheers went out throughout the crowd, Olivia felt faint.
She watched her brother respond to their cheers with an arrogance she was very familiar with and with a showmanship that made her wonder how she never saw his true potential before – his potential to take his ambition to a cruel, psychotic level.
“Now,” he shouted over their hoots and hollers, “I promised the lord that we would leave this District, but I didn’t say how we’d leave it.” More hollers and Olivia’s eyes grew wide. “Tomorrow morning we’re going to burn this District to the ground.” More cheering. “Yes! Yes! And.” He had to pause as the men quieted down, “and as a reward for all of your hard work, I’ll be handing over Lord Landon’s whore.” He pushed Olivia forward and the men started hooting and hollering anew. Alistair gave a toothy grin. “That’s right, she’ll be yours to do with as you like. You all can have a taste of this traitorous slut.”
Olivia felt as though she’d throw up. When she left him, he was a conniving, power-hungry young man, now he was completely mad. She never would have guessed that it’d be him, not Cole, who’d help realize her greatest fear. She turned to him, trying to talk some sense into him, but as soon as she opened her mouth he turned to her, cutting her off with a crazed fire in his eyes.
“Now kneel, you worthless whore,” he yelled.
Olivia just stared at him. “How can you do this? To your own sister?” she said.
Alistair sneered at her and struck her hard across the cheek, her head flung back and she stumbled, but she stayed on her feet. She wasn’t about to bow down to him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“I lost my sister the day you let that tyrant have you. Now bow before your ruler. Show these men who you truly obey.”
Olivia cupped her cheek, a handprint clearly visible. “Fuck you,” she said and spat at him.
The man let out an angry screech and hit her again, this time sending her to the floor. Her lip was split and blood dripped down her chin. The crowd cheered again as she lay crumpled on the ground at his feet. Alistair bent down on one knee and took a fist full of her hair, yanking her head up to show the crowd her beaten face.
“That’s my girl, now you’re where you belong. Tell me,” he said stroking her hair, “did you like being at his feet, did you call his name as he fucked you?” She snarled at him, but stayed where she was. He raised his arms up in a triumphant gesture before yelling, “Prepare men, we march at dawn.” He turned to her one last time. “You’ll have plenty of names to call out soon enough. Guards!” Two men came and picked her up, dragging Olivia to a tent and used the wrist and ankle bands she still wore to secure her.
. . .
Cole sat at his desk. He was supposed to be responding to an important email, but he was absently staring at the screen, chewing on his thumb. He was like that for hours. A loud knocking at the door made him jump.
“Come in,” he barked, sitting up straight in his chair.
Ronny nearly fell through the door. He recovered, scrambling up to Cole’s desk, out of breath.
“We followed them, sir. Just like you said,” he was panting. “You were right. She’s in trouble. I know where their camp is-”
Cole jumped out of his seat, not even waiting to hear the rest. Ronny followed close behind him.
. . .
Olivia’s wrists were red and raw from trying to free herself from her wrist bonds. Her cheeks were tear stained and filthy. Her body slumped with exhaustion. The guards threw her in a tent and left her there for hours. Even though it was large it was also vacant of any furniture except for one, dimly glowing, lantern. She sat with her eyes closed, shivering as night fell and the air became cool.
The soldiers grew louder and louder with the coming of night. Every now and then she could hear her brother’s voice, yelling this and that to the men. They started drinking a little after nightfall and by full darkness nearly all of them were drunk. Apparently, her return was cause for a great celebration. Shadows stumbled and swayed past the tent and she could hear the slurred talking of a few passing men. No one came into the tent after she was dumped there. She was exhausted, but also too afraid to fall asleep. To afraid that a drunken conversation would turn to her and the men would decide to enter her tent.
She thought of Cole and grew angry. He forced so much from her, her submission, her pleasure, but more than anything he forced the beginnings of feelings she didn’t yet understand. She still wasn’t sure if they were merely feelings of intense desire or more. Did she yearn to be near him because of her captivity or did this man have sway over her in a more simplistic way. Did she want Cole? Would she consider him more than just her captor? Maybe, but he betrayed her, through his silence and compliance with Alistair. She shook her head, her thoughts were useless. She was far away from the fort and the man she was so caught up in.
After some time, Olivia managed to fall asleep. It was restless and uncomfortable. She woke up to almost every shout from the men and to sharp pains in her neck, arms, and back. So when there was a loud sounding of a horn she didn’t immediately realize it was far more than the revelry of drunken soldiers. An explosion jolted her fully away and she jerked her head up, suddenly fully alert. Men started shouting. Gun fire could be heard in the distance. She strained to make out what the commotion was about. Shouts came from all over the camp. She heard a group of men run past her tent. Another blast of gunfire came from across the way. She tried to stifle a scream of fright at the sound. Her brother burst into the tent seconds later.
“Get up! Get the hell up,” he yelled at her, yanking her to her feet.
He tapped her feet and wrists, freeing Olivia from her bonds.
“What’s happening?” she asked him.
“We have to go,” he said, pulling her to the entrance.
Just then, a second man rushed into the tent, holding a gun aimed at them both. Her brother drew her against him, his arm circling around her neck, and pulled out his own gun.
“Stop right there,” Alistair barked.
The second man halted. Olivia stared at him, trying to make out his features in the dim lighting. Something about him was so familiar. Even with the soldier’s clothing and dirt covered face, intimate details became clear. Broad, protective, shoulders, dark hair that stood up on its ends, like he repeatedly ran his hands through it, and eyes that seemed grayer than possible. Cole.
“Put the gun down, Alistair. Let her go,” Cole said with a deadly voice.
Alistair barked out a laugh. “Do you think I’m mad?” the man sneered, pressing the muzzle of his gun hard against Olivia’s temple.
“We have your soldiers surrounded, there’s no escape. Your best chance is to give yourself up. Now let her go.” Cole never took his eyes away from the man, his gun stayed pointed straight and true.
“Now that’s where you’re wrong, I’m going to walk out of here. Do you know why? Because I’ve got something you want.” He pressed the muzzle harder against Olivia’s head, she winced in pain.
“Cole,” she said in nothing more than a whisper.
Hearing her say his name broke his concentration, Cole looked at her. Alistair took that second of distraction and lurched, swinging at him. He hit Cole in the face with the butt of his gun. Cole stumbled and fell, dazed by the hit. Alistair laughed again.
“Weak, just like my father,” he said, lifting his gun, about to pull the trigger.
“No!” Olivia shouted and did the first thing she could think of, she bit his arm and bit it hard.
The gun fell from his hand. Alistair bellowed in pain, throwing her to the side.
“Stupid bitch,” he barked, smacking her.
Olivia saw stars as pain raced through her head. She heard a bellow of anger, but couldn’t figure out who made the sound. There was a scuffle around her. Between the sounds of fighting in the tent and the din of people running around outside she couldn’t gain her bearings. As her vision came back into focus, she saw Cole and her brother rolling around on the floor, exchanging blows. Cole was the larger, more skilled fighter, but her brother was crazed.
Olivia scuttled backwards, away from their fighting. Cole landed a solid punch to the head, causing her brother to fall away from him. Alistair fell close enough to one of the guns that he lunged for it. Cole realized what was happening a second too late and dove, but missed the gun. Alistair snatched it up. Olivia panicked; she looked around and found the other gun only a few feet from her. As her brother pulled the gun on Cole with an evil smirk she grabbed the other one.
“Stop!” she yelled, pointing the gun at her brother.
Alistair laughed. “You wouldn’t, baby sister,” he said, cocking his gun.
He aimed at Cole, but stopped as he hear her cock her own gun.
“Yes. I will,” she said between gritted teeth. “Now, put the gun down.”
Her brother stared at her a moment, looking for confirmation that she would indeed shoot him. Her level, angry glare was all he needed and he shrugged his shoulders, dropping the gun.
“It’s always the whore.” He smiled. “Always the whore that ruins you.”
Cole snarled at him and punched him in the face; Alistair fell back, knocked unconscious. She cried out, surprised by his outburst.
“Olivia.” Cole went to her. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t respond she just stared at her brother, strewn across the ground. He shook her gently.
“Olivia?”
She looked at him then, her eyes still distant.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.
She shook her head. He brushed his thumb against her bruised cheek and split lip. He pulled her to him and she wrapped her arms around him. She pressed her head against his chest, as if she could melt into him.
He came for me
, she thought, wanting to stay in his embrace for as long as possible.
“Oh, Olivia, I’m so sorry this happened to you,” he said.
All she could do was nod as her eyes grew glassy with tears. Her body began to tremble and Cole bent down to scoop her up into his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder, hiding her face as he carried her out of the tent. Her tears started to soak his shirt; he let her cry against him. He walked out of the tent and into chaos. Republic soldiers were rounding up the rest of the rebels. Smoke billowed up from all around the camp; a few bodies were strewn across the ground. The camp was destroyed and with it her brother’s chances at winning the war. Cole yelled to a few of his men and they rushed into the tent. He held her close as they made a straight line to a black carriage parked in the middle of the camp. He helped her climb into the back and pulled out a blanked from under the seat. Wrapping her up in it, he gently pushed her back so she would lie down.
“Rest. I’ll be back shortly.”
Cole barked out a few orders to his men, congratulated them on their success, and gave Ronny an appreciative squeeze on the shoulder. True to his word, Cole went straight back to her. He climbed into the seat with her and scooped her up in his arms, holding her like a child. She didn’t protest. Olivia curled up in his arms, enjoying the comfort and safety they provided. The carriage started to move and the subtle rocking quickly lulled her to sleep. Cole slouched down a little, relaxing. He watched her sleep, never feeling more relieved in his entire life. His wrist console flashed to life and Carlson’s voice filled the carriage.