Page 82 of Fighting for Brielle
As far as Carson was concerned, Brielle detected cracks in his conditioning. Tex still hadn’t been able to find out anything about him which led her to suspect he might be either CIA or an FBI agent deep undercover. Nothing about Carson made any sense at the moment, especially what he’d whispered.
Hide it.
Just what she planned to do.
God, give me strength.
The overhead light flickered off. Alone in the dark, Brielle allowed herself to think about her family. They must be worried sick about her and frantically searching for her. She knew her father and Trey and Tex would use every resource at their disposal to find her.And Justice.Her heart flipped in her chest, and she dragged the scratchy blanket over her head. Stifling a sob, she whispered his name. Again and again.
“Find me,” she begged him. “Oh, God, find me.”
She couldn’t bear the thought of what he was going through right now. What he must be imagining. What he knew she would endure to stay alive. Yes, she would stay alive. For him. Because he’d captured her heart and soul the first time he’d smiled at her on their beach. Because she wanted her own happily ever after, like the heroines in her mother’s historical romance novels. And because she didn’t want Justice ever to have to face life alone again.
“I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to stay alive, Justice,” she whispered. “Just don’t give up on me. I love you so much.”
She finally fell asleep with an image of Justice’s rugged face floating in her mind.
The following morning Brielle awoke as soon as light flooded her cell. Grateful she hadn’t experienced any lingering side effects from the drug Carson used to knock her out, she splashed her face with cold water, dried it with the hem of her dress, and brushed her teeth. While she jogged around her cell, a synthetic voice spoke soothingly over a loudspeaker.
“Good morning. This is a new day. Rejoice in it. Embrace it and your place in our New America.”
Brielle laughed aloud. She imagined she’d been transported into a bad version ofBrave New Worldor a poorly written episode ofTwilight Zone. Her laughter died, though, as the stark reality of her situation hit her hard in the gut as if she’d been punched. This moment might be her last to laugh as herself. She knew techniques to resist brainwashing, but would they be enough to keep her mind intact? When she emerged from the program, would she be broken, a mere shell of her former self?
She worried about Faith, too, who didn’t share her background or training or survival skills. What had Anderson done to her?
Please, God, let Faith be okay.
Brielle had been awake for almost an hour, she guessed, when the steel door slid open, and Carson joined her. He handed her a pair of black sweatpants, an old T-shirt, clean panties and a bra, and tennis shoes.
“Follow me,” he ordered, his voice curt.
“What no cheerful ‘good morning’?” When he shot her a dirty look, she smiled. “Where to?”
“The communal showers.”
Brielle quirked an eyebrow and couldn’t resist a snarky reply. “Communal showers? Is this a revolutionary group or a hippie commune?”
“You have a smart mouth.”
“If you’re a lieutenant in Anderson’s army, why have you been assigned my watchdog?”
“I do what I’m told.”
“Uh-huh. So, if I told you to throw yourself off the nearest cliff, would you?” she baited him.
“If it meant I wouldn’t have to listen to you anymore, yeah, I would.”
“Wow! An original thought. Who knew?” Brielle teased him. “Where are you from, Carson?”
She threw the question at him so quickly he didn’t stop to think about it. “Texas. I’m from Texas…” Carson’s voice trailed away, and he stiffened beside her. “What the hell are you trying to do?”
“Just making friendly conversation,” she replied.
By this time they’d reached an open area near the surface. To say it hummed with activity like a beehive would be a paradox. The men passing them, dressed in business suits and other casual attire, and heading toward a bank of elevators that rose out of the compound, were mute. None of them spoke to each other or to Carson and Brielle. Only their eyes communicated suspicion and blatant dislike. She could understand why they might feel that way about her, but why Carson?
“Where are those men going?” Brielle inquired.
“To their jobs on the outside.”
