CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MARLEY
EVEN THOUGHI told myself that I didn’t want to use the bucket in the corner, my bladder feels like it’s about to burst. I’ve been lying here staring at this damn ceiling since I woke up from my fitful sleep. At least at home I can count my fan blades, I’m counting cracks and cobwebs here.
The sun has come up and I’m so thirsty that I might consider drinking dirty water off the floor if it were available. The little room I’m in is just that - a little, dirty, stone room with a cracked, dirty floor.
D never brought Hallie back and I’ve been pushing imaginings of whatever hell she might be going through out of my mind. I can’t think about that without letting my fears take over to send me into a static bundle of nerves.
The window high on the wall is small, maybe just big enough to crawl through, but it looks like it sits just at ground level based on the grass and sand next to the glass.
No matter how I adjust how I’m lying, it hurts. Bottomline, I’ve gotta pee.
I’ve been distracting myself with thoughts of what I was just doing twenty-four hours ago. I was with Jax. I’m not sure if I’m just delirious from dehydration, or maybe it’s a side-effect of a concussion, but I chuckled to myself when the thought ‘I was doing Jax’ crossed my mind.
I’m delirious.
They just kind of left me here. No one has been by to check on me since that asshole cut me. My cheek has been aching all night, and every time I rolled onto my side in my sleep, it would pull the wound and more blood would dribble around my face onto the cot. That, combined with the headache I still have, made for a pretty uncomfortable night.
Pushing myself up with my bound hands, I listen for any type of movement on the other side of the door, but I hear nothing. The bucket in the corner is a bright orange bucket from one of the local hardware stores. There’s nothing to wipe with, but I guess I should count myself lucky to even have the stupid plastic container.
Curiosity has me pushing the cot Hallie was on against the wall under the window to see if I can see anything. The burlap of the cot sinks a little as I put all my weight on it, but I’m able to see just over the bottom of the window.
Gravel. Trees. A forklift next to a pallet of pipes. Maybe we are at the port, a couple of times through the night, I heard the deep whistle of a ship on the river. It sounded pretty close.
Sounds of feet walking down stairs nearly has me jumping out of my skin and I almost lose my balance. I drag the cot back to the wall it was at and sit on my cot, my heart beating so hard I can feel my body spasm with each frantic bu-bump.
A slider lock glides open on the other side of the door before it opens. A man I haven’t seen before is standing in the doorway with a bottle of water and what looks like a bolognasandwich. He doesn’t even look like a full man yet, I’d bet that he’s closer to late teens, early twenties.
His brown eyes move to the cut on my cheek and his eyebrows twitch together with what I think is disapproval as his lips press into a tight line. When his gaze makes contact with mine, I can see he doesn’t really belong here, he’s softhearted.
Maybe I can use this to my advantage.
“Hi.” My voice is shaking and I hope I don’t regret this.
Anger crosses his face and he lowers his eyes to the floor without saying anything before walking into the room. With a glance around, he walks to Hallie’s cot and sets the sandwich and bottle of water on the burlap and turns to go.
Before he gets the door closed, I say, “Wait.”
He stops, but won’t look at me.
“Is Hallie okay?”
His hand fists at his side. “She’s alive.”
My already erratic heart nearly drops to my stomach. Does that mean he’s beat her up? Is she suffering? What are they going to do with me?
“Are you going to kill me?” My voice is shaking so bad that my teeth are nearly chattering.
His angry brown eyes meet mine, pity swirling in their depths, and for two breaths he doesn’t say anything. “I’m not.”
Tears prick my eyes. “Will you help me?”
His eyes drop to the floor and before he closes the door and slides the lock in place, he says, “I can’t.”
I stare at the door for nearly a minute, my mind swirling in every direction. I know Jax and Mason are doing what they can to find us, but pushing away the thoughts of what could happen is getting harder with each passing hour.
Remembering the water, I grab the bottle and look it overfor any kind of tampering, but I don’t think the seal is even broken. I want so bad to chug the entire bottle, but I don’t want to make myself sick, so I force myself to sip it.
