Page 67 of Hidden Raphael
Chapter 19
Kimberly unlocked the metal door leading to the basement of the castle. The frown on her face might be permanent. She pinched the bridge of her nose, then stepped inside, blinking rapidly as she made out what was hanging on the wall. Chains? What? She gulped. Was she in a medieval dungeon?
She dropped the keys. The jingle reverberated in the air. Castles had dungeons. She took a second, shook her head, accepting she was now in one. She reached down to get the keys. Then someone called out, "Hello?"
That wasn’t Raphael. She must be hearing things again, or this was another setup from the Halloween leftovers. She gulped. "Who was that?"
She pocketed the keys and clutched the candelabrum in her hand like it was a weapon. Her knuckles turned white. It was one thing that Raphael had a girlfriend, but quite another that someone was down here in the dungeon of his castle.
A male voice whispered, "Over here."
Her heartbeat thrashed in her ears. The room had almost no light. She sniffed the dust in the air, and refused to sneeze. She held the candelabrum higher, though her hand shook. If someone was able to, they'd have already tackled her. She sucked in her lip and took a step forward. "Who’s here?"
A cough echoed.
She clenched her jaw, turned the corner, and stared at the older man from the plane. She lowered the candelabrum. Harry was handcuffed to the wall like an animal. He was in the open area, but there were other smaller cells on the other wall. He had been her hero on that plane. Raphael must have done this. Why?
He tipped his head, and she averted her gaze. How had she been so wrong? "Harry Descartes, Miss Kimberly. Are you a prisoner too?"
Prisoner? Raphael clearly had a secret life. Her head spun. The keys jiggled in her pocket. She brushed her cheek with her hand, like somehow the rub would stop the heaviness in her heart. "No. Not like you. I thought you were dead. I'm so sorry. How long have you been here?"
Unlike the liar Raphael, Harry had thrown her from the plane and saved her life. Her chin trembled, but she refused to cry. She owed Harry everything. She walked closer to him, studying his shackles.
Harry's brown eyes misted, and his old, wrinkled face held such despair. "Miss Kimberly, I'm glad you're okay. Once we get out of this mess, you can go see your mom again."
Her face was hot. Was she blushing? Harry remembered her story and why she was on the plane to begin with. She should have remembered him sooner. She should have known who Raphael truly was and not just…
She swallowed, dropped the candelabrum on the ground, retrieved the key, and turned it in one of his hand chains. A second later, something metallic clicked and the sound resonated in the air. "I'm so sorry."
He lifted his hand toward his face and smiled at her. She had been so wrong on so many things. Harry pointed to his other hand. "Where have you been? Did the big man hunt you down and throw you in here with us?"
The big man must be Raphael. He was a monster for locking up this old man. She stepped over Harry's feet and ignored his questions. How could she answer? Lust for a man with an amazing body wasn't an excuse. Once again she'd made a bad choice, only this time more people were hurt. She brushed the hair out of her face. She had seduced Raphael, but she kept that to herself. She put the key into the lock then froze halfway done. "Us?"
Harry nodded. She turned her head toward where Harry pointed. Then she held her breath. "Roger Hellsworth, the pilot."
Her hands trembled. Raphael might have been right that he fought soldiers. Her shallow breaths echoed her racing heart as she said, "He shot Ali and Eileen."
Harry shrugged like murder wasn't that big of a deal as he winked at her. She tugged the key out of the lock, but she was too late. Her heartbeat thrashed again. She pressed her lips together as Harry said, "Roger explained everything to me. We're friends now. He is in the next room."
The chains clicked open but she couldn’t move. What had she just done? Harry stood up, rubbed his wrists where the chains had been, and then stretched.
She wanted to sink into a ball and disappear. There was no place to hide, so she backed up, palming the key. Harry talked about Roger like he was a nice guy. She took another step backward and picked up the candelabrum. Harry lunged at her, grabbing her and the key from her hand. "We need that, miss."
"No," she screamed, and tried to hit him with the silver candelabrum. His body pressed against her like it was an anchor and she couldn't breathe. She used the candelabrum as a weapon again on his back, but he caught her hand from the next blow. He held both of her wrists. She flinched and the candelabrum fell to the ground. "You are not helping Roger,” she said. “He is supposed to be dead."
"He should be dead, but Raphael won't let him die." Harry answered like he was correcting her grammar. Her mind spun. This wasn't happening.
She tugged at her arms, but Harry held her hand with the key hard. Her eyes misted. "Please don't. I wanted to help you."
"You have." Harry's grip was so tight, her hand became numb. Then her fingers shook, and the key fell to the ground. "I want my freedom, the same as you."
She shook her head and brushed her hands against her eyes as he let her go. No. Harry couldn't let Roger out. "Roger killed Ali and Eileen. You were there. He'll kill us too."
She jumped to run, but her back hit a wall. The exit was twelve feet to her right, though at the moment it felt like a football field away.
"You don't understand anything, do you?"
She wrapped her arms around her belly, but took a step toward the door. "What am I supposed to understand? This is crazy. Raphael said Roger was dead."
