Luna
Something broke through my dreams. A noise. Nothing more than the scuff of a shoe, maybe. Sighing deeply, I tried to find a comfortable position on the hard floor. I couldn't have been sleeping very long, because my hip bone didn't hurt. My stomach growled. I'd had a hard time falling asleep, and I wasn't ready to wake up yet, and now lingered somewhere between sleep and consciousness, convinced I must've dreamed of the noise.
There it was again.
I pried my eyes open and found myself staring at the cream-colored wall at the back of my cell. At first, I stayed very still, listening for whatever had made the noise to do it again. While I waited, I prayed to any entity that happened to be listening that it wasn't a mouse. Or a rat. God, please no. Not a rat.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a soft moan and the clank of metal. Flipping over onto my back, I sat up, my eyes flying around the cell until they found the source.
Tristan sat in the opposite corner of the cell with his back against the corner where the bars met the wall, as far from the door as he could get. One leg was bent, and the other was straight out in front of him. He was wearing the suit he left in, but his shirt was balled up on the floor next to him and he was barefoot. Crumpled up wads of paper were scattered around him and there was a pad and pencil on the floor. The key to his car was by his foot.
His torso was covered in blood.
"Tristan?" I stumbled to my feet, shoving my hair out of my face, and hurried over to him. "What happened? Are you hurt?" I dropped down as close to him as I dared, wincing at the pain when my knees hit the hard floor. Without thinking, I reached out to touch him, pulling my hands back just in time. His chest and stomach were covered with cuts and bruises, and there were a few long welts. "Tristan? Tristan!"
His obsidian eyes stared straight ahead. He didn't seem to see me kneeling in front of him or hear me calling his name. I stuck my face right in front of his, and my breath caught in my throat. "Tristan?" I whispered. But he wasn't there. He wasn't with me. His eyes were cold. Dead. There was nothing there.Hewasn't there.
I wasn't sure how much blood he'd lost. He was a little pale, but I didn't know if that was from his injuries or from whatever had happened to him.
"What should I do?" I asked him aloud. "Tell me what to do!"
He didn't move. Didn't respond in any way.
"Phone. I need a phone." I could call Enzo, or Luca, even. They could help me. Dropping my eyes to his pants, I looked for the telltale shape of a cell phone in his pockets.
And that's when I saw the knife in his hand. There was blood on the blade. "Oh, my god."
He'd done this to himself.
Wrapping my hand around the dull edge of the metal, I carefully wiggled the knife out of his grip and slid it across the floor, away from us. He didn't have his phone. Not unless he was sitting on it. Jumping to my feet, I ran into the bathroom and got mine from the sink where I was charging it and returned to Tristan. Sitting on my heels, I tapped the screen with a shaking finger, looking for the number Enzo had given me in case of emergency.
I hit the green call button. He answered on the first ring. "Luna? What's going on?"
"Enzo?"
There was a brief pause. "What's wrong?"
"It's Tristan. He's in the cell with me," I told him. "He's bleeding. He cut himself all up and he's not responding to me." My throat tightened on a sob.
"What happened? Luna?" he said when I didn't answer. "What the fuck happened?"
"I don't know," I finally choked out. "I don't know. He's been gone all day, and when I woke up, he was here. What should I do?"
I heard the wind over our connection, and then the slamming of car doors. "Where's the key to the cell?"
"I don't know. I don't know. I can't touch him!"
"Okay. Okay. Calm down. How bad did he cut himself?"
Wiping my eyes with the back of my free hand, I looked over his bare chest, stomach, and arms. "Um. I don't know. Not bad? I don't think. But, he's not talking. He's just staring straight ahead, like…like…he's not even here. I don't know what happened. I don't know where he is. I can't get through to him."
"Okay. Don't worry about that right now. Find something to press on any of those wounds that look bad. We're on our way."
I looked at Tristan’s face. I didn’t know where his mind was right now, and I had no idea how he’d react if I got too near him. “How am I supposed to do that? What if he freaks out on me?”
“Just do it, Luna. It’ll be okay. Don’t touch him with your bare hands.”
"Okay." Grabbing Tristan's shirt off the floor, I wadded it up, hesitating just for an instant before I pressed it against his stomach where the worst of the cuts seemed to be. Tristan never moved. Didn’t so much as flinch.
