AndIsla.I’m the only family she has left. Everyone else she’s ever cared for treated her like she was expendable if she didn’t abide by their demands. She won’t have anyone when I die. She’s going to be so fucking alone. That thought is the one that finally causes the dam to break.
I start weeping and just repeating the same things over and over again, begging for mercy, “Please. I don’t know anything. I don’t wanna die like this.”
He scoffs, “Stop crying. I’m not going to kill you.Youare not the target andIam not the monster.” Somehow I don’t think it’d be helpful to point out that from where I’m sitting, he absolutely is the bad guy here. But he said he wouldn’t kill me, so I won’t argue. He pulls his knife from my face, looking at it like it jabbed itself at me, instead of him being the driving force behind it.
“We’ll just have to sit here and wait for him together,” he finally decides, “I don’t want to hurt you, so please don’t provoke me.”
I’m going to cheer them on when they find you and rip you to fucking shredsI think to myself. I’m not going to give him any more reason to hurt me so I’ll just sit here like the good little prisoner I am until my demons come to get me.
Fuck. “I have to pee.”
He grunts in frustration before wandering over and using his knife to release me. He slides it back into his belt and I notice he’s put the gun back on. My eyes are glued to it, hoping he doesn’t pull that out. A firearm and an unhinged zealot can only end in disaster for me.
“Any funny business and you’ll end up with more than a few bruises,” he warns me, not that he needed to. I just nod and hold my hands up, walking a weird backward scootch to the powder room.
I’m suddenly struck with how much I feel like I did that night so long ago. The violation, the angry blue eyes, the insistence that this is all my own fault. With that thought, my body forces all the bile to exit my stomach. I barely make it to my knees in front of the toilet before everything in me is forcibly ejected. The guilt and shame invading my body cause me to shake and pushes fresh tears from my eyes. How can I feel so guilty,again,when I’m the victim? I don’t care what this psycho says, I don’t deserve this treatment. Caspian and Fritz don’t deserve to be hunted down like animals just because of what they are. They didn’t choose this life.
After wiping the corner of my mouth with my hand and finally relieving myself, I dare a quick glance in the mirror.
I look horrible. Bruises are starting to form on my face, and dried blood under my nose is mixing with some still running to create a horrible crusty waterfall of it. My hair is the least of my concerns, as are the small remnants of black makeup around my eyes.How the fuck am I going to get out of here?
“I also need to change. For both of our sakes, I think.” When he’s not putting his hands on me, he seems scared to even look at my scantily clad body, so we’re both clearly uncomfortable about how much of it he’s seen.
“Fine. Make it quick.” He has my phone and a gun, so he must not see me as much of a threat now. To be fair, he’s not wrong. Is the one I shot Caspian with still in there somewhere?
After I sprint up the stairs with him one step behind me and let myself into my bedroom, I quietly look in the places I would normally stash it, thinking maybe Caspian returned it to its home. I’m putting on a big pair of sweats and a sweater while I rifle through my things.God damn it, where is it??
I hear a tap on the door before my captor says, “I have what you’re looking for. Did you really think I would not look to see if you have weapons?” I nearly claw my eyes out in frustration at his condescension. I flip the bird at him through the wall with both hands, hoping it’ll help me feel better. It doesn’t, but the thought of his crazed face if he saw it does a little bit.
“Get out here, you’ve had enough time to change and if you haven’t, that’s your own fault,” he barks.
I leave the room and make my way back down the stairs, trailing behind him like a naughty school kid who’s been scolded. He points at the couch, not bothering with words. He knows I’ll follow his silent command.
He plants himself against the wall, leaning against it with his head tilted back, clearly as unhappy with this situation as I am.
“I cannot keep you here by myself indefinitely,” he sighs and my heart soars at the possibility of him leaving, “so I’ll have to call in back up to stay here and keep you under control until your demon arrives.” All the hope drains from me instantly.
Another one of them in here?The only thing worse than one crazy religious fanatic istwoof them. He pulls out his own phone and shoots off what I’m assuming is a text to someone before he comes to sit near me.
I look at him, glaring with all my might before he holds up both hands in supplication, “Look, Miss Hart, I know you’re not a fan of me right now, but I promise we’re the heroes here-”
“Tell that to my fucked up face, asshole,” I regret it the moment I say it, but for once he doesn’t strike me. He clenches his fists like he wants to but only releases his white-knuckled grip a moment later.
“As I wassaying, I do not want to hurt you. I truly think you’re an innocent in all this. Stupid, but innocent.” I glare, holding my tongue and he continues, “But my higher ups are not as willing to empathize with those who have been tricked by the devils wicked sons.”
I’m not sure I understand what he’s saying, but it can’t be good.
“If you use continue using this foul language, disrespecting us, and refusing to be helpful, they will not be as merciful as I have been,” he adds. “They’ve killed many whose only sin was being tempted by demons.”
“What is the point of your little club? Hmm?” I ask, hoping to start some kind of open dialogue so he sees the craziness he’s supporting.
“To send all of demon kind back to Vankhala,” he answers, intoning like it’s some kind of oath, which I guess it probably is.
“So, it’snotto save humans, or to save anyone, really. Just to kill?” I push, probably stupidly but I can’t help it.
“Saving all of mankind sometimes requires the sacrifice of a few,” he tells me as if I’m the dumbass here.
“Andyouare the one who gets to decide whose life is less important?” I ask him, accusation coming out in my tone.
