She’s walking in a circle. Barefoot, like us. They took my boots and boot knife the second they got us into the van. Well, after the first beating.
She’s wrapped in leather pants that are fitted to her legs and a tank top that’s tight and low. She looks like a vamp. Bet she even paid for her chest. The long black hair against her pale skin probably looks sexy as hell if she curls the ends and has the right amount of eyeliner to go with it.
But that’s not what’s happening. Her hair looks limp. Dirt covers a lot of her. And her mascara—well, if she had any makeup, it’s gone by now.
She looks just as scared as we do, but strong enough to speak up, and she’s not leaning against the wall and wallowing in pity like me. I don’t begrudge myself for doing it. I’m strong; I know I am. But I was taken. Saw people I know get shot and probably killed. I was beaten. Drugged. Flown somewhere, and that can’t be good. Hunger was the easiest thing to hyperfocus on, and now I have another.
Like what got her grabbed. Was this all random or selective?
“Hi.”
She stops at my voice and looks at her grate, seeing my face. She backs up a step to get more of a view.
“Hi.” Her smile is brief and tentative. Like mine.
“Do you know where we are?”
She shakes her head.
I lick my lips as I try to think beyond my panic. “How long have you been here?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. What day is it?”
“I don’t know. It was the twenty-fifth when we, um… when we were taken.”
“Okay, I guess a few weeks, then. It was Valentine’s Day when I woke to… well, this.”
I look down at Nat. Not because I’m worried she can’t hold me, but because I want to make sure she heard. The look on her face as she stares at me lets me know she did. And that she fears for us too.
I swallow and look back at the other woman. I don’t want to crush her hope, but she needs to know. “It’s April.”
“What?”
“April 25. Before… before all this.”
She walks a step back till she hits the wall and sinks to the floor. “Two months? I’ve been here that long?”
The strength she once had evaporates before my eyes.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
Tears escape her eyes as she looks at me and doesn’t even bother to wipe them away.
“Ava.” She sniffs. “What’s yours.”
“Peaches,” Nat says loud enough to carry through the vent. I look at her in confusion.
“What?” Ava asks as if she didn’t hear.
Nat’s eyes narrow, and she nods at me as if to say,“Continue with the lie.”Something in her gaze has me complying. “Peaches.” I look back at Ava. “Call me Peaches. And my friend, um, I mean, her name is… Daisy.”
No idea why I’m giving out aMario Kartname for Nat, but she doesn’t protest. Ava either doesn’t see through it or just doesn’t care for the mind games when she’s dealing with the ultimate mindfuck of finding out how long she’s been here.
Which gives me zero hope. Especially since I have no one looking. I just walked out on everyone that I ever cared about. If Dad was still… Dad, I would have an army looking for me. I would have zero doubts.
But the way I left? The things I said? To Dad? To the club? To Kooper?
That last one has me slouching, deflated, and Nat lowers me.
