Page 23 of The Awakening

I stay locked in tight to his chest, both of us needing this embrace more than we even realized. After a long moment, we separate, and I step back, looking up at a man I thought I knew. From a monstrous, despicable, and vile human being to pulling back the veil of his true identity. Arno hides himself from everyone around him, protecting his heart and soul from destruction and pain that will eventually find us all. Arno’s dark eyes are glossed over, holding back the tears he refuses to let go. Maybe this is the Shadow in him, never showing weakness and never admitting to pain, even when that pain is heartache.

“I don’t need pity, Sloan. I understand the process of sex trafficking and I’ve come to terms with the inevitable. That won’t stop me, however. I will continue my search, my hunt, and I will find her one way or another. And for those who took her...let’s say the devil has a special place for them when I get through with them.” The side of my lip curls up into a smile. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Arno, it’s that he is a man of his word. Like the brotherly figure he is, Arno rubs the top of my head, disheveling my hair into a crazy mess.

“Come, let’s get in a workout. I have some steam I need to blow off.” I nod my head once and turn to grab Colson’s journal before following after him. We reach the long hallway, and my curiosity takes hold of me.

“Arno, what’s her name? The woman you’re looking for?” His footsteps stop abruptly. The long hallway in front of us grows quiet with the absence of our footsteps. Arno tilts his head to the ceiling, letting out a long breath.

“You want to know her name, little one?” he asks me without turning around. “Only if you want to share with me,” I whisper to him. “Her name—her name is Willow.” With that, he continues down the hallway until he pushes through the gym doors, disappearing from my view.

Willow.

Her name is Willow.

Looking down at the journal, I squeeze it tightly between my fingers, having read that exact name from a previous entry Colson had written. She’s alive, she’s safe, and Colson saved her. I sprint down the hallway, placing my hand on the door, but freeze. What if this is not the right Willow? What if I get Arno’s hopes up for nothing? I can’t cause any more heartache for this man—my friend, my brother.

I will find this Willow for Arno and make sure this is who he’s hunting for before I tell him. I can’t hurt him, not anymore. I hope and pray to whoever’s listening that this is his Willow.

After putting Colson’s journal back in Everett’s office, I made my way back to the gym where Arno and I have been working out for the past hour. We’ve been working on more fighting techniques on the mat with the music blaring at max volume. “Limits” by Bad Omens rings in my ears as Arno lunges at me again. I dodge his hold, spinning away from his arms and positioning myself behind him once again. With his back to me, I see the rise of his shoulders as if he’s chuckling to himself.

“You’re getting pretty good at dodging me, little one. I’ll give ya that.” I smile to myself, pride filling my chest, when suddenly the gym doors burst open. Arno and I stand straight up, staring at Everett and Dean, who look like they’ve just seen a ghost. We all stand utterly still, Arno and I breathing heavily from training. Everett and Dean are breathing heavily from whatever news they just found.

“He’s alive,” Everett all but whispers to the room. The only reason we’re able to hear him is because the music has ended and it’s in between tracks. My eyes bounce back from Everett’s to Dean’s. The look in their eyes is one of pure relief. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Arno turn around to look at me. “Savior” by Rise Against blares through the speakers and I fall to my knees.

He’s alive.

Colson is alive.

My head falls into my hands, and the floodgates completely open at the news. Sob after sob heaves from my chest, and I don’t even realize when Dean wraps me in his arms.

“He’s alive, baby girl, he’s alive. We wouldn’t have known if it weren’t for you,” Dean’s voice whispers in my ear, his warm breath sending chills down my spine. They let me cry, all three of them as we’re all kneeling on the wrestling mat. A hand rubs my back as I continue to heave my cries into Dean’s chest. After far too long of me crying hysterically, I begin to collect myself, calming my breathing and wiping my tear-covered face with a gym towel. Everett hands me a water bottle and I twist the cap, chugging half the bottle.

“How do you know?” I ask the guys, my voice raspy from crying so hard. Dean looks to Everett, and I follow his gaze, awaiting his response.

“We were able to infiltrate their security cameras on the compound. Once we were in, we scanned every available live feed we could, until we found this.” Everett raises his phone, the screen displaying what looks to be a live feed. I step closer to the phone, squinting to try to make out what exactly I’m looking at.

I’m looking at a dark, empty room—no windows, no furniture, nothing at all. Except for a single person, a man, kneeling on the floor shirtless, his arms extended above his head and to the sides. Long blond hair covers most of his back, but when the man turns his head sideways, a gasp slips from my lips.

“Colson,” I whisper. Colson’s arms are being held up by ropes tied to circular bars hanging from the far end of the room. My hand covers my mouth at the state of Colson. His once toned and muscular physique is now emaciated, every rib in his back noticeable with every breath he takes. His beautiful golden skin is now an ashen white, as if he hasn’t stepped foot outside in six months. There’s dried blood caked on the side of his neck that trails down his left side. His wrists being held by the ropes are bleeding, the rope tearing into his skin from being suspended for God knows how long.

Tears fall from my eyes as I examine the state of my once-full-of-life Colson. His frame is almost unrecognizable from the abuse, torture, and starvation he’s been enduring for the past six months. My heart is breaking into a million pieces as the thought of me causing his pain flood my head. I let my emotions take hold of me, not allowing myself to see the decoy who was clearly not my Colson. If I’d kept a level head, I could’ve seen the signs. They were plain as day. How could I have been so stupid?

Clutching the phone in my hand, I start to tremble, anger coursing through my veins. The desire to destroy those who’ve done this to him clouding my vision. The once clear image of Colson in front of my eyes is now fading and the sharp edges of his outline blur until all I see is a distorted image I can no longer make out.

I hand the phone back to Everett, lifting my head to peer into his green eyes.

“What do we need to do to get him back?” My voice no longer sounds like my own. A wave of pure determination washes over my body, stiffening my muscles and gripping my chest in an uncomfortable, almost painful, hold. I watch as Everett and Dean exchange a hard look, silent communication flowing between them. I feel Arno step up beside me as I impatiently wait for their response.

I want to scream; I want to rip apart their organization from the inside out. I want them to beg for death after what I plan to do to each and every one of those who touched Colson. No one is getting out of this alive.

“Come with us. We’ve got an idea. But we need to move fast,” Dean says to Arno and me before turning and exiting the gym. The rest of us follow close behind.

The four of us enter the office, Everett taking his seat behind his desk, where Dean and I sit on the leather sofa against the wall. Arno takes up the seat in front of Everett’s desk, stretching out his long legs in front of him.

“Alright, mate, what do we need to do?” Arno speaks first, eager to hear what plan my guys have devised to rescue Colson. Everett turns his monitor towards us before enhancing what looks to be a blueprint of the compound where Colson is being held. I squint to get a better look at the map. Six red dots are actively moving around the outskirts of the compound.

“What are those dots indicating?” I ask, pointing at the screen. Dean answers me by adjusting his position on the couch, so he’s turned towards me.

“We’ve already got Shadows on the ground. The moment we discovered Colson was alive, we sent them over. They’re to remain on the border of the compound. Their main mission is to observe and report back to us if Colson is moved for any reason. They arrived on the ground roughly five hours ago.”

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