Luther Blood splatters against the brick as my head flops with the force of his punch. “Luther Beckett. NSDAP15337. Corporal. March 15, 1990,” I choke out. I must have dozed. When I wake, Jess is tied to a chair alongside mine. He slaps her hard, and I snap my head up to spit a curse in his direction. Jess whimpers beside me and I know they’d been working her over too while they carved up my back. Her face a mess of bruises, her lip is swollen and blood is trickling down her chin. I can only hope that’s the worst they did to her. Our captor leans closer to her and grips her chin. She flinches and he grips tighter. “This is your final chance, Corporal. Where are the rest of your company?” Jess doesn’t move, but her eyes go wild as his hand drops from her chin to her t-shirt. He looks in my direction. “You know my men wanted to rape her. I’m the only thing between them and her. And I’m losing patience.” Panic overrides the pain tearing through me, three days of sleep deprivation, no water and no food are making me reckless. “You want to fuck with someone, fuck with me you retarded asshole.” Instead of getting him to focus on me, he laughs and rips Jess’ shirt open so her bra is exposed. She starts to sob, and I know if he touches her, I won’t hold out for rescue. I can’t let that happen to Jess. I’m supposed to have her back; she’s always had mine. I try my restraints one more time, even though I lost the circulation in my arms a day ago. “She needs medical attention. Get it for her, and I’ll talk.” Jess’ eyes pop and she spits a curse, letting me know she’s got something left in her tank. “Don’t you fucking dare you piece of shit. Don’t you dare give me special treatment.” Despite myself, my lip curls into a half-smile at her continued attitude. If I can keep her riled up, maybe we’ll stand a chance. “Everyone knows women can’t be Marines. Too hormonal,” I mutter. Jess cusses me out, so I carry on insulting her, insulting women, calling her weak, anything I can to delay him acting on his threat. I raise my head and find him smirking at us, but it hasn’t worked. Either he saw through it, or he knows it won’t be long before we’re found. He slowly picks up a scalpel from the table beside Jess. Her chest starts to rise and fall too fast, but she stares ahead as sweat starts to run down my forehead. The first slice into her arm, she doesn’t react, but a single tear spills down her cheek as he runs the scalpel over her bra strap. He looks at me as the bare skin of her breasts are exposed. “You think her husband will want her after we’re done cutting her tits off?” All my training, all the months spent preparing for this tour, and there is nothing I can do except give up the information he wants. Jess jerks her head in my direction and she shakes her head as her lip wobbles. “Don’t. God, please. Not for me. Don’t. You swore an oath; you can’t break it. You know what that means.” I flex my hands and shooting pain tears through the wounds over my back. He places the scalpel down and palms a handgun. My heart rate is so high, my vision is blurring, and I know I’m seriously close to passing out. “Wait, wait, get her safe, get her out, I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you anything you want.” I’m so fatigued, so exhausted, I have no idea if I mean it. I just know Jess won’t survive this if I don’t do something. I’ve heard the stories just like she has. Only for her, it’s worse. She has a husband and a kid back home. She dies and it matters. “I don’t give a shit anymore. They left us here to die. I’ll give you anything you want, just let her walk out the door, let me see her leave.” He leans against the table, the gun pointed at Jess’ head, a lewd smile grows on his greasy face. “Now. You will tell me now.” Outside the room, I hear a shout and the sound of trampling feet, then the faint thump of a rotor and I know why he needs the information now. Panic is overtaking me as he presses the gun harder into Jess’ temple. “Let her go, let her go,” I repeat in a monotone. Jess sucks in a breath of air, her eyes locked on mine. “Don’t say it. Don’t you damn well give him the location.” His attention strays to the ceiling and I know I’m out of time. I keep my voice as calm as I can. “Let her walk, you still get what you want.” His eyes dart from the ceiling as the helicopter draws nearer. Adrenaline is surging through me as he starts to recite a prayer. I yell as loud as I can. “Let her go. It’s over. They have your location. Let her fucking go!” But he doesn’t move, just stares at me, lips moving as he prays to a god who expects death as worship. I jerk against the restraints. I look at Jess but she’s staring at the gun in his hand. “They’re coming. They’re coming. It’s going to be okay,” I say to her. Her tears start to fall and her shoulders shake as he raises the gun so it's hovering above her exposed nipple. Jess’ sobs continue as she looks me in the eye. “Tell Mike I love him. Tell my girl I’m sorry I can’t be there to see her grow. I’m so, so sorry.” Without a word, he presses the muzzle into her nipple, and this time she does scream. “Luther! Wake up! Luther, it’s okay, you’re safe.” A feminine voice lulls me out of the depths. But it’s not Jess. It’s lower, throatier, and softer. Blaire. Blaire is in here. With a rush of awareness, I bolt upwards in my sweat-soaked sheets, flick on the lamp beside me and find her pressed into the wall. Her eyes are wide, but she seems unharmed. My heart still raging, I point at the door. “Get out.” She doesn’t move. But the night isn’t over yet. I grit my teeth. “Get out.” Her mouth opens and I pre-empt her before she can say anything. I keep my voice icy. “Get the fuck out.” She swallows, moisture glistening in her eyes but she takes a step closer to the door. She steps through the open door, and to the sound of her starting to cry, I climb out of bed, legs shaking as much as my hands, and twist the lock. I flick the light off and try to fool myself into thinking I just did the right thing. *** Blaire Monday 5.46am I wake, groggy, and with Luther the first thing that comes to mind. I knew I wouldn’t sleep after the way he treated me, and the extra sleeping pill was the only thing I could think of. I still don’t know why he was sleeping on the same floor as me. All I know is that the man I spent the weekend with is at best unpredictable, and at worst unstable. I can’t imagine what he’s going through if that’s the sleep he gets. But he’s made it clear he wants nothing more to do with me, so even if I wanted to help him, I can’t. I’m not even sure I want to right now. I finish packing, checking my watch and listening for signs he’s stirring, but if the last two mornings are anything to go by, he’ll have eaten and be working by now. I’m still sluggish when I make it down the stairs with my luggage. I leave everything by the front door and let out a breath as I head back to the kitchen. I hold my breath and release it in a rush when I see he’s not inside. It doesn’t look like he’s been in here. No tell-tale signs of coffee, or anything out of place. My movements are wooden as I pour myself a bowl of granola I don’t really want to eat. I check my watch again, too many times to count, and know he’s not going to show. My stomach is tied in knots when I look out the window and see the ferry approaching right on time. By the time the ferry has docked, and I can hear voices, I know Luther isn’t going to make an appearance. After he was so cold and so hostile, I should be glad, but I saw him at his worst, and I can’t say I’d want someone gawking at me if I came out of a horrific nightmare either. I give up trying to justify how I feel, and accept that whatever it was with us, is over. I scrawl a record of what I ate and drank over the weekend, and when I hear footsteps in the hallway, I force a smile to my face. Mary bustles in looking incredibly stressed as she finds me sitting at the table. “Oh! How did it go? I’m so sorry I didn’t check in as often as I’d planned. Family emergency.” I get to my feet, thinking about my own family and my promise to visit Chloe this evening. “That’s okay. Everything went fine.” Her smile broadens and she lets out a relieved breath. “Oh, thank goodness. After the phone calls between Jake and Luther, I was worried there was a problem.” I shake my head, feeling guiltier by the second. “No problem.” It’s obvious she’s distracted when she gestures to the exit. “Jake is taking your luggage to the ferry. Unless you’d like it now, I can email you the bill?” I nod quickly and follow her out the kitchen door. “That’s fine.” As she makes small talk, I glance around, hoping to catch sight of Luther. Mary seems to notice me looking and a small smile appears on her face. “Luther didn’t say goodbye?” I shake my head, and a flickering of annoyance overtakes her smile. “And he wasn’t too awful to be around?” The words come easily even though it’s an outright lie. “Not at all.” Her relief is obvious as we meet Jake at the dock. He, on the other hand, looks irritated. He gives me a tight smile. “Did you go in the boathouse?” I swallow, heat blazing across my cheeks as I think about the camera. I have no idea why he’s asking, only that Luther said he wasn’t supposed to be in there. With a hesitant smile, I pull a face. “I’m sorry. I did. I heard about your boat and was curious. Was I not supposed to? His smile falters a little but Mary’s increases as if covering. “That’s fine. It’s just not ready for guests to see that’s all.” As if to reassure me, Jake nods but there’s nothing reassuring about the tightening of his jaw and the slight clench to his fists. With nothing else to do, but step on the ferry, I take a last look over my shoulder, hoping against all odds, Luther might change his mind and come see me off. But when the skipper takes my hand, and I step aboard the vessel, I know, Luther would never do anything of the sort. Despite how I feel, this weekend was and has to stay, a dirty little secret. *** Luther From my position on the roof of the pool house, I watch the ferry depart. No longer in danger of doing something even more stupid, I climb down the ladder and find Jake glaring at me. I meet his gaze; gut knotted as I consider what I’ve done to earn that look. He points to the roof. “I thought we agreed to leave that till next month?” I have no excuse for starting on the guttering when he made it clear, so I pull off my gloves and try for a half-truth. “Yeah well, she was hanging around, and she looked like she wanted to chat.” That earns me a snort of derision. “Yeah. I hear you. Still, I’m on a tight budget, and you go doing shit like that without a harness and all the safety gear…” I know what he’s saying. He’s trying to protect himself. I’m working without permits, without paying taxes and if I get injured, we’re both screwed. It’s why I’m not supposed to do anything involving heights unless he’s here. “I’m not going to sue you.” He mutters to himself as we walk back to the front door. “At least I’ll have peace and quiet the next few days. Spent all weekend at her sister-in-law's house. Her fuck head husband has ducked out on her again.” I’m not particularly interested in hearing him gripe about his sister in law, so I bring him up to speed on the liquefaction. He listens with a tight expression on his face but doesn’t interrupt until I mention the Boathouse has additional cracks in the wall. “You don’t need to worry about anything in the Boathouse. I’ll deal with it.” I start to argue, but he shuts me down with a glare. “I’ll go transfer your pay.” He turns and strolls in the direction of the office. Normally I’d leave him to transfer my pay, but I need to know he isn’t going to watch the tapes from the weekend, so I follow him and try to think about a plausible reason for doing so. “I had to sleep on the second floor,” I say. He flicks the light switch on and nods as he takes a seat. “Fair enough.” Since I don’t really normally hang around, it’s more than awkward I am, so I lean against the wall and try to appear casual. “These writers staying the weekend thing going to be a regular event?” He glances at me and shrugs. “Too early to tell.” When he’s transferred the money he gives me a curious look. “You going to tell me who Mike and Jess Carlson are?” I shake my head. He doesn’t need to know where I’m anonymously donating money, so I prompt him again. “The writers?” He scratches his head. “For all I know Mary could be booking out every weekend we’re in the city. I’d be the last to know.” A smile twitches at my lips. But I can’t help but feel envious for the life he’s made for himself. I know I’ve lingered too long when he sends me a pointed look. “You need something else?” I shake my head. “Just needed to know she’s not going to be coming back here on the weekends, that’s all.” He raises an eyebrow and pushes away from the desk. “The weekend was that bad?” I force a grimace to my face. “Yeah,” I lie. “The worst.” His nostrils flare. “Only you would complain about spending the weekend alone with a hot woman.” I keep my tone cool. “How often do you look over the camera footage?” His hands twitch but he doesn’t move. “When I can.” I try to keep my body as relaxed as possible. “If you tell me what I’m looking for, I could take it home and take a look.” He folds his arms across his chest and leans back. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” A knot forms in my gut. “Not right now. I’m still looking for full-time work.” He keeps his eyes locked on me then nods. “This stays between you and me, got it? You don’t discuss this with Mary. She doesn’t need to know.” A warning grows as he pushes a memory stick into the USB port. “Take a look and let me know if you see anyone creeping around the Boathouse at night.” My eyebrows raise. “You’ve got a trespasser?” His eyes are on the screen as he transfers the files. “I need to know if anyone has been messing around in the Boathouse.” I accept the stick and slide it into my pocket. “That’s why you didn’t want me in there?” He nods but my unease doesn’t settle. “But since you were in there, you can spend the next few days watching this shit, so I can figure out which staff member I need to fire.” His eye twitches again. Something isn’t kosher here. He’s not telling me the whole story. “Don’t lose that. I’m deleting the footage from the past week. I don’t have the storage space to keep it indefinitely. Give me a call if you find anything.” I nod and don’t let my relief show. “Will do.” As I walk out of the office, a shallow smile grows as I say goodbye to Mary and head towards the ferry. I almost wish I could contact Blaire and tell her she no longer has to worry. Almost.