They’re gone.
“So it’s true then?” I choke out, my tears finally escaping. “They’re dead?”
Chapter 12
Iwake up witha pounding headache, the dull throb in my skull intensifying with each passing second. It takes forever to peel my heavy eyes open, but the dim, sterile light filtering through the narrow window only makes the pain worse.I try to sit up, but a jolt of agony shoots through my side, and I collapse back onto the hard, cold floor.
Panic sets in as I struggle to remember how I got here. The last thing I recall is being with Ella and the guys, walking through the parking lot of The Den for her party. I remember saying something to make her laugh, but I don’t know what it was. All I see is her bright, dimpled smile reflected in my mind before darkness.
No,my mind snaps.There’s more.
I feel it there, lingering, scraping against my skull, but I ignore it. I ignore it because as my eyes slide around the small cell I’m locked inside, all I can think about is her.
Where is she?
Where?
Where?
“Ella!” I mean to shout it, but instead, I croak her name, my voice hoarse and weak. My brows crash together, and I force myself to swallow down rocks. I lick my lips and call her again, this time a bit louder.
There’s no response, just the eerie silence of the cell. I push myself to sit up, gritting my teeth against the pain. My fingers fumble with the torn, damp fabric of my white shirt, and I wince when I touch something sticky and cool beneath it.
Blood.
My heart races as I realize I’m injured, but I can’t remember how it happened.
Yes, you can.
“No,” I grit out, shoving everything down again—the pain, the fear, the worry. I know it’ll come. I can feel it. Can taste the way the memories will wreck me. I don’t want them. Not till I have her back.
Struggling to my feet, I scan the small, barren cell, my eyes desperately searching for any sign of my baby girl. There’snothing, just gray walls and a cold, unforgiving floor. I stumble and catch myself on black bars, using them to pull myself upright. It’s dim outside of my cell, but I know what a jail looks like—a prison.
Cell after cell.
Cold, bleak, dim.
Empty.
I hold my breath, listening for anything, any sound of life, proof that I’m not alone.
Nothing but silence.
Panic pulses through me, and I begin to call out for her again, my voice tinged with desperation.
“Baby girl? Where the fuck are you?” My voice trembles, but it’s louder this time, bouncing off the empty cinder block cells around me. It echoes down the vast hall, the tiny, barred-up windows, but there’s still no response.
Swallowing thickly, I let a little piece of my memories trickle through.
My brothers, my family.
Hunter.
My gut twists.
The Den.
The party.
