As panic rose within me, the rush of adrenaline in my blood removed some of the cobwebs from my mind and the sluggishness from my muscles. Not quite back to normal, but close. The room gradually came into focus as I braced my palms on the scratchy blanket beneath me and lifted my upper body, twisting around so I could see what kind of room I was in.
Not a room.
A cell.
Iron bars surrounded me on three sides, spaced about three inches apart. To my back was a wall. “What the hell?” I kept looking around me, convinced I was still dreaming. “Where the hell am I?”
“You’re safe, Luna.”
I knew that voice. My head snapped around. “Tristan?”
He stood to the right side of the cell door with his hands in his front pockets, just outside the bars, watching me with those emotionless dark eyes the way he always did.
“Tristen, why the fuck am I in a cell?”
“You weren’t safe with Gino any longer. I was coming to get you out of there when I found you outside.” He cocked his head. “Why were you outside? And why aren’t you dressed?”
My head began to pound, and I put one hand on my forehead. “Because…because…” I tried to remember. Gino had come into my room, and he hadn’t been himself. “Oh, my god. He had a gun.”
Although he didn’t move, his shoulders stiffened. “Who had a gun?” he asked quietly.
“Gino,” I whispered. “He came to my room after you left. He was drunk, and he had a gun.”
“What was he planning to do with it?”
Though the volume at which he spoke never changed, I could hear the anger in his voice. His entire body practically vibrated with it. I blinked against the light, but my eyes didn’t want to focus. “I’m not sure,” I lied. “I ran away.” I didn’t know why I didn’t tell him the truth. Gino had come into my room to kill me. Or maybe he was going to kill both of us. I wasn’t sure. But either way, I’d known the moment I saw him that I wasn’t going to leave there alive.
The breath he released was audible. “So the blood on your skin and shirt doesn’t belong to you?”
I looked down. The neckline of my tank top was streaked with dried blood. “No. It’s Gino’s. I bit him.” I didn’t tell him where. I could still taste the salty copper of his blood mixed with the metallic taste of the drugs. It made me want to puke.
“Good girl. But why didn’t you use the knife I left you?”
“Yeah,” I squinted up at him. “I didn’t have a chance to grab it.” I shivered. It was cold in the room, and I was still only wearing my sleep shorts and tank top. Looking around, I found the blanket I was sitting on and tried to tug it out from under my butt as I tried to keep the panic that continued to threaten under control. Freaking out wouldn’t get me out of here. “It’s so cold.”
“Yes,” he agreed, but he made no move to adjust the temperature.
“Tell me again why I’m here, Tristan.” I knew he’d already told me, but I couldn’t remember. Wrapping the blanket around my shoulders, I tried to get to my feet and fell back onto my butt.
“You’re not safe at Gino’s, so I brought you here, where I can protect you.”
“You locked me in a cell to keep me safe?” I repeated, trying and failing to keep the disbelief from my voice. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. I’d gone from being locked in a room to being locked in a fucking cell.
“Yes,” he answered simply.
I tried to understand, but I was having a hard time keeping up with the conversation. My thoughts felt like they were swimming through sludge, even as adrenaline raced through my veins, urging me to run. It was a weird sensation. He watched me as I tried again to get to my feet, but offered no assistance. This time, I managed by using the wall behind me as leverage, my blanket falling from one shoulder. I shivered again as the air conditioner kicked on.
There was another door set into the wall behind me that I hadn’t noticed at first. One that led into another room. Without thinking, I stumbled through it and into…a bathroom. It wasn’t fancy, but it had everything a prisoner would need. A toilet. A sink. There was even a shower. No window, though. And no other doors.
“There are towels in the cabinet above the toilet along with the shampoo and body wash you like. There’s also some extra toilet paper and tampons under the sink. They’re the kind you use. If you need anything else, just let me know, and I’ll get it for you.”
I couldn’t even respond at first as my drugged brain tried to comprehend what was happening. “I need you to let me out of here,” I told him, one hand on the wall as I slowly made my way back out to the cell. “That’s what I need.” My legs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds.
He didn’t respond.
I searched his eyes for any sliver of uncertainty or guilt about locking me in here. There was absolutely none. “Tristan. You need to let me out.”
He shook his head. “No.”
