Vigilante For Hire

Chapter 6: I am _______

Four weeks later:

Zara woke with a sudden jolt. She couldn't see straight, but felt scratchy rope binding her wrists and ankles to a chair. She yanked against the restraints. This wasn't right. A faint light flickered above. Her mind worked slow, too slow. Someone, she couldn't focus her eyes on them, stood in front of her dangled an object swaying left to right methodically in front of her.

"Who are you?" a raspy voice asked.

Zara couldn't form words. He repeated the question with a slap against her cheek.

She mumbled, still unable to make out anything more than fuzzy shapes. "Zara Crosse."

Her chair was tipped backward. Zara yelped. A wet cloth was placed over her face and water poured down.

Zara gasped for breath as the cloth suffocated her. They'd lift her and repeat the process all over again. She inhaled deep ragged gulps of air, chocking and coughing until her lungs couldn't take anymore. They were going to kill her, and she didn't even know who they were, yelling commands that she didn't understand.

"You are not Zara anymore."

Before she could protest, they dipped her backwards again.

"No please!"

The cloth, the water, the suffocating. She gasped and gasped but no sweet relief of air. She thrashed desperately and then...

A scream filled the room.

She was in her own bed. Hands shook her by the shoulders.

"Zara! Sweetie, wake up!"

Her eyes adjusted, finally able to see. Her father cupped her face into his hands. Tears spilling down her face.

Zara's burning and aching chest heaved.

"Hey, it's okay. Shhh, it was just a nightmare."

Confused, terrified, tired, Zara folded into his chest with sobs. He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back.

"You don't have to be afraid, I'll be here. Just try to sleep."

But Zara couldn't close her eyes. These torturous nightmares reoccured every night for weeks. Sometimes she screamed herself awake with her father shaking her, but mostly, she suffered in silence.

"You almost look worse than I do," Brooke said.

Zara slammed her locker shut, forcing a smile for Brooke. It'd been four weeks since her attack and Zara's guilt hadn't dissipated much. Brooke's bruises had healed and all that remained was a small faint scabby line across her eyebrow. The mental healing – that would take much longer. Brooke never went anywhere alone now.

"Late night, again?"

With a yawn, Zara shook her head. Late night was an understatement. Between school, homework, ballet lessons, training with Liam every night, sometime even sneaking out after her dad went to bed for more training, she was lucky to sleep more than few hours. Yesterday was no different: self-defense and Krav Maga practice, shooting and knife fighting practice, and various lessons like how to pick a lock or interrogate someone.

And when she managed to finally sleep, the same nightmares terrified her over and over.

Zara of course chalked it up to stress and ironically, lack of sleep.

But she wouldn't burden Brooke with any of it.

They walked through the hall toward the cafeteria for lunch.