Breaking Point (Drew Ashley 1) (32 page)

BOOK: Breaking Point (Drew Ashley 1)
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"Drew?"

It was Rosie's voice. I tried to sit up. I couldn't. I tried to turn. I couldn't. I heard some shuffling and then Rosie's face appeared before me. "You're awake. Thank goodness."

"Where am I?" I croaked.

"We're in prison."

"We're in prison," I repeated.

"Yes. We've been here for two days. You've been pretty delirious since we've been here. Are you okay?"

I felt like I'd died and come back. I closed my eyes.

"Drew?"

Rosie's voice registered foggily as I drifted away to a painless place where I didn't know who I was or where I was.

The next time I woke up, I felt even worse. Why couldn't I move? Was I disabled? Was I paralysed? Panic gripped me. I wondered what day it was. What time it was. I'd lost track.

The floor that I was lying on was very dusty. My throat started a cough reflex, but my body wasn't strong enough to carry it through. It came out as a feeble splutter.

Rosie's face appeared. "Drew? Are you conscious? Can you hear me?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"I don't know how we got discovered, but I'm sure we'll be fine. I'm sure Ralph and Colin will find a way of getting help and negotiating our release."

Rosie sounded like she was trying to convince herself. She looked terrible. Her hair was matted to her head with sweat, she was covered in dust, and she had a black eye. Did I look that bad, too?

It was then that I noticed that there were other people in our prison cell. All women. I also noticed that it stank. The putrid smell hit me suddenly and made me gag.

Rosie bent over me, fanning me with her hand. It didn't help. I was exhausted when my body settled down.

Over the next few hours, or at least I assumed it was hours since I had no way of knowing, the room darkened. The darkness was enough to send someone over the edge. It seemed endless, like light would never come again. It was horrid.

I thought of Paul and Silas singing in the dungeon. The last thing I wanted to do was sing. It was physically impossible for me to sing right now anyway.

At some point during the night I heard the clang of metal. "Rosie and Drew," a stern, heavily accented, male voice said. It sounded like Rozee and Droo. Was he really saying our names? I wasn't sure. Rosie stirred beside me.

"Rosie and Drew!" the voice shouted.

Rosie sprang to her feet. "Yes. We're here." Her footsteps sounded softly as she crossed the cell.

"Get out," the voice said.

"Drew is unable to move, she'll need help." Rosie came back and tried to lift me.

The man laughed. "Save yourself, Rosie."

What? I was indignant. No way! She'd better take me with her.

Then I heard the most comforting sound I'd heard in a while. "You go Rosie, I'll get Drew." It was Harvey's voice. Or at least, I thought it was.

Someone dropped down beside me. "My wife."

Oh, it was Kale, not Harvey.

"Oh, my dear wife, I'm so glad I've found you."

I couldn't see in the darkness, but that was Harvey's voice, not Kale's. I was confused. What was going on?

"Just be quick," came the stern male voice.

I was lifted up by powerful arms and carried out of the horrible prison cell. Prison officials watched my saviour and I as he carried me through a larger room and then out into the night. The temperature had dropped and I was shocked to find that I felt slightly cold.

I made out a van parked on the road. A man was standing beside it holding a torch—the naked flame on a stick kind. It was just as well because if not for that I wouldn't have been able to see anything as there were no streetlights.

"I brought an ambulance," Harvey said, setting me down, but maintaining his grip on me.

I hadn't stood upright in what seemed like an age. I still had legs! Albeit wobbly legs, but legs, nonetheless.

Harvey helped me into the back of the van and the man with the torch followed, his torch lighting up the small space.

"I heard you have malaria?" Harvey asked.

I nodded.

He looked at the two men in the van. "Please check her over for me; I want to make sure that's all that's wrong with her." He paused. "Test her for HIV, too."

I gasped. No! I couldn't have that!

A man stepped forward with a blood pressure cuff.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Eight fifteen pm," Harvey said.

Was that all? I'd thought it was the dead of the night!

The tests seemed to take forever. I was pricked with what seemed like a dozen needles, which I usually hated, but right now I was beyond caring. After a while I fell asleep.

When Harvey woke me up, it was dawn and I felt a whole lot better. I listened while one of the medics spoke to Harvey. I gleaned that during the night, I'd received two litres of saline solution via IV, I needed to rest and drink lots of fluids, and I didn't have HIV.

Harvey carried me out of the van, and I noticed that we were still outside the prison. I couldn't wait to get away from the place. He bundled me into a car and gave the driver the name of a hotel.

"What time is it now?" I asked him. My voice was hoarse.

"Five past five."

Three quarters of an hour later we arrived at a magnificent building surrounded by palm trees and lush green bushes. It looked a palace. "Are we going to see the president?" I asked in dread. I didn't want to meet the corrupt dictator.

"This is our hotel," Harvey said.

What! Rwibya had hotels like this and I'd been crammed into that awful place! It was outrageous.

Harvey got out and came to help me out. He thanked the driver, who had gotten out of the car and retrieved a small travel bag from the boot. Harvey slung the bag over his shoulder then took my hand. "Come on."

We entered the magnificent hotel. It was better than any hotel I'd ever stayed in. A plush red carpet was like a soft cushion underfoot, and the vast reception was resplendent with paintings in gold plated frames, fancy chandeliers, leather sofas, flowers,
air conditioning!
I almost jumped for joy.

A man in a European suit stood behind the reception desk. "My wife and I need a room please," Harvey told him.

I opened my mouth to say something, and Harvey tossed me a glance that silenced me. I moved to one of the leather sofas and sat down, wondering why he kept calling me his wife. Silly man!

He beckoned to me when he'd booked a room, and we entered a lift that took us swiftly to the second floor. Harvey unlocked our room door and I stepped into a suite more beautiful than anything I'd ever seen.

As soon as Harvey shut the door I glared at him. "What's going on?"

Harvey set down his travel bag on a table. "Can we fight after you have a shower and some breakfast?"

"No, I want to know now."

Harvey grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around to face a mirror. I was shocked by my reflection. My face was completely discoloured by bruises and mosquito bites, my eyes were sunk in and I had a painful looking gash across the right side of my face. I removed my veil and saw that my hair was like a ragdoll's. I didn't recognize myself.

Fighting could wait. "Where is my suitcase?"

"It was stolen when you were captured," Harvey said, moving toward a phone on a table. "You need clothes. Anything else?"
Makeup? A hair dresser?
"No, clothes should be fine. And a hairbrush."

I went to the bathroom and was glad to see that there was a tub with taps. At the other hotel we'd just had a water pump outside that we soaked our towels in then wiped ourselves. I filled the bath, squirted some essential oils I found in the bathroom into the water, and got in.

After lying still for a while I started scrubbing every nook and cranny of myself. I was filthy. My hair was filthy.

I felt more human when I finished. I wrapped myself in a hotel towel and wished I had a toothbrush.

I went to the bedroom and found Harvey there, laying out a beautiful kaftan dress. "I should have asked for a toothbrush," I said.

He reached into a plastic bag on the bed and pulled one out. I tried to catch it when he tossed it to me, but it fell on the floor. I bent over to get it, and my head spun. I went back to the bathroom and leaned against the sink as I brushed my teeth. My two litres of saline solution were wearing off. I needed to eat if I was going to regain strength.

I went back to the bedroom after brushing my teeth. Harvey had tactfully left. I shut the door, wishing I could lock it, and hurriedly dressed up. Harvey had ordered a lot of clothes, and he'd accurately guessed my bra size. Was that cause for concern?

He'd ordered makeup too. I plastered it on, determined to look a little normal. I decided that I wasn't going to try and tackle my hair just yet. I blew it dry and then squeezed it into a bun.

There was a knock on the door. "Can I come in?" came Harvey's from the other side.

"Yes, I'm done."

"I've ordered breakfast," Harvey said entering the room. He was holding a newspaper. "You look much better."

"Thanks. How did you know my bra size?"

"I called your mum. She ordered all those things. I put her on the phone to the chambermaid."

That explained a lot. "Does she know I've been unwell?"

"No. But she knows you were captured."

I sat down on the bed. "So, what's going on, Harvey? How did you get us out?"

"Our crew was busted," Harvey said. "Luckily, the night they wanted to kidnap you all, everyone was out spying on a showdown between the rebels and the government forces. Only you and Rosie were in. Rosie had stayed back because she didn't want to leave you alone.

You're lucky you weren't both killed instantly. They searched your rooms for evidence that you were journalists, but couldn't find any. Based on that, I insisted that you were my wife and you were just on vacation with a friend, not a pair of reporters."

I raised an eyebrow.

Harvey removed a piece of paper from his back pocket. "They wanted evidence. I had to actually marry you."

It took a moment for that to sink in. What do you mean?" I asked uncertainly.

Harvey unfolded the piece of paper and placed it in my lap. It was a marriage certificate. I looked at my signature. "I didn't sign that."

Harvey just looked at me.

"Sorry, I need you to explain this to me, Harvey." I managed a calm tone although I wasn't feeling particularly patient. I snatched the piece of paper from my lap and waved it at him. "Where did this come from?"

"I bribed a priest to perform the ceremony in your absence." Harvey shrugged as if it was just one of those things. "I told him we were already engaged and that your family was trying to renege on the arrangement after I'd already paid the specified dowry."

I decided not to comment on the fact that he'd bribed a priest, neither did I question why a priest had accepted a bribe. "So it's not a real marriage," I said relieved. "Good idea though. I'm glad it worked."

Harvey sat down on the bed. "It's a real marriage."

"How can it be a real marriage when I didn't—"

"We're in Rwibya. Women don't have many rights here, remember?"

I remembered reading about forced marriage in Rwibya. I'd been outraged. I held my head in my hands, my mind whirling. I couldn't believe I was now the victim of a Rwibyan forced marriage. "We can get a divorce as soon as we get to England," I said in a small voice.

Harvey just looked at me for a moment, then he sighed. "British law doesn't permit divorce in the first year of marriage."

I felt dizzy. "Are you kidding?"

"No."

I had an instant headache. What was Kale going to think? I looked at the marriage certificate again. It was Rwibyan. "Will it be recognized in England?"

A muscle in Harvey's jaw bunched up ever so slightly. "Marriage is recognized everywhere."

"Why did you have to marry me?"

"Like I said, the authorities wanted proof so the best way of making sure my plan worked was to do it properly."

"Why didn't you marry Rosie?"

"I knew you'd be wearing an engagement ring and Rosie wouldn't."

I let out a slow sigh, unable to believe the situation.

"It was the easiest way," Harvey said. "Larry didn't want to notify the British authorities because the political repercussions could be dire. Also, he was afraid that it'd affect News24 negatively because we flouted the reporting ban. I'm sorry, Drew."

I didn't know what to say.

"Can you try to be grateful, though," Harvey said. "I've paid thousands of pounds in bribes to rescue you. Which do you prefer? To be married to me for a year or to be dead?"

"I'm grateful. I just need time to come to terms with this." Tears sprang in my eyes. Kale was going to be really upset. What if he went back to Jazz because of it? I pushed the thought away. I'd find a way to get a divorce. There must be some loophole in the law. "Can't you admit when we get back that my signature on the certificate is forged and that it's not a real marriage?"

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