Holly’s discovered one that could cost her her life. The Cyrellians are siphoning off all Earth’s natural resources, preparing to leave humanity to die in the dust. Before she can share what she knows, the Cyrellians see that Holly is locked away, safely out of sight. After all, who would believe the tales of a crazy woman?
One man would. Chase, the Freedom Fighter she’s tried so hard to forget. Haunted by dreams of one sweet moment with a voluptuous redhead, Chase vows to risk life and limb to free Holly and keep her where she belongs — in his arms. Though their attraction burns red hot for each other, Holly isn’t so sure she can trust the hunky blond Freedom Fighter. Chase, however, is determined to make her his at all costs.
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She wiggled and writhed, trying to break free but to no avail. After a while, Holly realized the only thing she was accomplishing was tiring herself out.
Heyzah smirked. “Are you finished yet?”
“Never!” she yelled just to be contrary.
“The only person you’re hurting is yourself if you keep that up.”
“You may have me now, but what are you going to do when other people find out about what the rest of your kind is doing to us? I know about the stealing of natural resources, the clinic, and the damn drug that’s being put into the food.”
Heyzah laughed, but not before his expression gave way to what looked like annoyance. “That’s the kind of talk that will keep you here. How can you expect to get better if you make up these elaborate conspiracy theories?”
“They’re not made up and you know it.”
The doctor leaned forward, so close she could smell his stale breath. “But you can’t prove it,” he whispered. “Who’s going to believe someone in a mental institution?”
Though she couldn’t move her limbs, there was one thing she still had left. She spit in the alien’s face, showing him her disgust. Her victory was short-lived however when he backhanded her so hard she wrenched her neck. From out of nowhere, he produced a large syringe.
Holly hated needles. “No!” she screamed.
The doctor smiled, revealing razor sharp teeth. “I can assure you, Miss Combs, this will hurt.” He jabbed the sharp point into her flesh, and injected her with a greenish fluid.
She figured it must have been some type of drug to make her sleepy, but instead the room began to spin and wild colors danced before her eyes. The three Cyrellians standing next to her bed, observing her actions, began to distort and twist. What was happening to her? A strong wave of nausea hit her so violently she turned her head to vomit, but nothing came up.
What had they done to her and why did she feel so sick?
The three aliens began to speak in their native tongue and she had no idea what they were saying. Her head began to pound and her thoughts became murky. Had they just poisoned her?
What was going on?
She didn’t want to die like this — couldn’t let them win, but the pain coursing through her being was becoming unbearable. Whenever she moved even the slightest bit, her muscles cried out for relief. Whatever they had injected her with, it was far worse than any torture she could have thought of.
Holly lay as still as possible, but it still felt as if her insides were being sliced apart with razors. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes and finally she prayed for the sweet release of death.
Anything was better than this.
Suddenly, a loud explosion sounded in the distance. The Cyrellians looked at one another before running out of the room, probably to see what the commotion was. Holly didn’t care if the entire building fell down around her, anything would be better than the agony she currently suffered.
She didn’t know how much time passed before she was rejoined. This time it wasn’t a Cyrellian, but a man.
He said something but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Who was he and why did he look so familiar? Holly was almost certain she’d seen him somewhere before, but her vision was so blurry at this point she couldn’t make out much.
He produced a menacing looking weapon which he brought down in a wide arc. Holly held her breath, wondering what he was doing, but she could barely raise her head. The man seemed to be sawing away at something. Then he moved to the other side of her and repeated the motion. Once he completed his task, he worked on the hook connecting her straightjacket to the bed post, and finally the fastenings holding her arms immobile.
Though he’d somehow freed her, she didn’t want to move because it hurt too much.
The man grasped her by her forearms, pulling her out of the bed. Holly wanted to scream from the excruciating pain tearing through her body, but her vocal cords were paralyzed.
Just as he gathered her into his arms, she mercifully blacked out.