Loyalty Divided

Chapter Fifteen

Evangeline's eyes fluttered open, and she was greeted by the dim, musty smell of a dank cellar. Her head throbbed, and as she tried to move, she felt the cold, unforgiving bite of iron shackles around her wrists. Panic surged through her veins as she realized she was chained to the wall. The realization brought a flood of memories crashing over her, memories of the first time she had been kidnapped, memories she had tried so hard to bury.

She glanced around frantically, taking in the grim surroundings. The cellar was small and barely lit by a single, flickering oil lamp hanging from a hook on the wall. The rough stone walls were damp, and the floor was cold beneath her. Her belongings were nowhere to be seen, and the absence of her revolver left her feeling more vulnerable than ever.

Her breathing quickened, and she tugged at the chains, the metal scraping painfully against her wrists. Tears welled up in her eyes as the walls seemed to close in on her, her mind replaying the horrifying moments of her first abduction. She had been so young, so helpless. The fear, the hopelessness-it all came rushing back, threatening to drown her.

Evangeline forced herself to take deep, steadying breaths. She couldn't afford to lose control. She had to think, had to find a way out. But the chains were sturdy, and the lock on the shackles looked impenetrable. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of fear and determination driving her thoughts.

She remembered the faces of the O'Driscolls during the ambush, their cruel, mocking expressions as they dragged her away from the camp. The thought of Arthur and the others filled her with a desperate need to survive, to get back to them. Arthur... Her mind clung to the memory of their last moments together, the tenderness of his touch, the warmth of his kiss. She couldn't give up. She had to get back to him, to all of them.

She tried to listen, to catch any sounds that might give her a clue about where she was or who was nearby. But all she could hear was the faint dripping of water somewhere in the darkness. Evangeline closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her strength. She couldn't afford to let fear paralyze her. She had to stay strong, had to keep fighting.

Suddenly, the door to the cellar creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. Evangeline's heart raced, and she squinted through the dim light, trying to make out the person's features. As the figure approached, her hope surged momentarily-until recognition hit her like a blow to the stomach. It was Colten.

"Colten?" she whispered, a mix of confusion and relief in her voice. "You found me... you're here to save me?"

A twisted smile spread across Colten's face, and he let out a low chuckle. "Save you? Oh, Evangeline, you really are naïve, aren't you?"

Her relief turned to ice-cold dread. "What... what are you talking about?"

Colten stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You never suspected, did you? I been with the O'Driscolls all along. Keeping an eye on you, waiting for the right moment."

Evangeline's mind reeled. "No... no, that can't be true." The dam in her eyes was threatening to break with each word. "Colten I... I thought you loved me?"

He laughed, a harsh, cold sound that cut through the air. "Love you? Oh, Evangeline, you really are naïve. You think I cared for you? Every morning when I left camp, I wasn't just taking a walk or checking the perimeter. I was meeting one of the O'Driscoll boys for correspondence."

Evangeline felt her heart shatter, the weight of his betrayal crushing her. "All those times... all those mornings..."

Colten's expression twisted into a sneer. "Did you really think someone like me could love someone like you after what you did to my family? I was just biding my time, waiting for the right moment to deliver you to the O'Driscolls. And now, here we are." He laughed at her. "You even slept with me the first time you met me. Maybe you should quit gunslingin' and start whorin' since apparently you're good at that." His laugh echoed around the small room.