I blinked, trying to shake the black spots speckling my vision. “Excuse me if I’m not inclined to cooperate with your method of speed dating.” The rope was the only thing keeping me upright now, and my head felt heavier than lead.
“The Society is tired of waiting for your cooperation.” She said, and my wheels immediately started turning, shocked, as I tried to sort this out, figure a way out of this before I lost consciousness.
“I don’t know what the hell they’re waiting for.” My left ear started to ring, my eardrum fluttering painfully, and I felt like I was going to puke any second now. “I gave you all my answer years ago.” I pulled against my restraints, but it only made the excruciating pain in my shoulder shoot down my arm and up my neck. I bit back a whimper and tried again with no luck.
“Yes, well, you were young and dumb then.” I lifted my head to see the woman shrug as she spun the gun around her finger carelessly. “The director has been wildly patient, and now he’s ready to put some pressure on you. Hewillget what he wants.Eventually. And right now, you have two options, join or turn over the estate.”
I closed my eyes, trying to ground myself, trying to breathe through the pain, trying to draw in a full breath to steady myself. “You can tell him that’s never going to happen.” My head snapped to the side from the punch I didn’t see coming. I laughed as blood dripped out of my mouth with a metal tang and black edged around my vision, all while I fought to stay conscious.
“You gave him too much.” A male voice said.
“How was I supposed to know? I’m not a fucking pharmacist.”
My heart was pounding way too fast. Could a heart explode? It felt like it was going to. “What did you give me?” I demanded weakly.
God, I didn’t want to die from a fucking overdose. I had things I needed to do, things I needed tosay.
“You’ll be fine.” The woman responded. “If you cooperate.”
My response was jumbled and nonsensical, my tongue a dead weight in my mouth.
“Your membership is not a request; it is a requirement, and I suggest you concede in a timely manner. Otherwise, our little party here will be the least of your problems.”
That was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.
Sarafina
I laid in bed that night and stared at the giant bucket of paint in the corner of my room, debating if I should text Carter about the whole ridiculous thing. Debated even calling him instead, but ultimately decided I didn’t want to seem like a sad, needy nuisance after my embarrassing breakdown earlier today.
I scrolled through his latest messages anyway.
Carter
Hey, just wanted to check on you today. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day. Get outside and get some fresh air. Hope you have a great day, pretty girl.
You’re going to get through this. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but you WILL have good days again. I’m here for you anytime. Day or night. I mean it.
Also, I’m really excited to get my painting btw
Fucking excited!!!!! But you get the point
I smiled and thumbed over to my banking app and sent the balance for the painting back to him, and waited. I understood why Professor Alden had said to keep it, but right now, this was a bit of a ritual between Carter and me—somehow easier than texting actual words. Besides, Carter always sent the money right back within a matter of minutes. It was our weird little game of tag.
I laid in bed scrolling social media and periodically thumbing over to my banking app, checking, but still no response from Carter.
Hours went by as I laid there just waiting, feeling worse and worse. I wasn’t sure how long I waited, but eventually I realized he wasn’t going to send the balance back this time. I shook my head, feeling silly that I had expected him to be available on demand. He had his own life, and it’s not like he was waiting in great anticipation for my texts. Maybe he’d decided the painting wasn’t worth that much anyway, because it definitely wasn’t.
The sad truth was, he was just probably being nice when we’d spoken on the phone earlier because that’s who Carter was. He would have stayed on the phone with me while I cried like a lunatic, simply because that’s what he would have done for any one of his friends. I wasn’t special.
I laid in bed and went back and forth, tormenting myself before finally composing another text to him.
Sorry it took so long to send the painting.
I hesitated before typing out another message.
Don’t sue me if I put too much bubble wrap on it. It’s going to take you a WHILE to get it all off. Hah. I just wanted to make sure it got to you in one piece.
I stared at the thread, but the three little dots never popped up. The longer I waited, the more I wished I would have just played it cool and thanked him for earlier. I groaned. Was it too needy to sendanothertext thanking him? Should I wait for him to respond first? Maybe he was annoyed with me.Iwould be annoyed with me.
