“Put her down there where I can keep an eye on her.”
Sean.
“Please… don’t do this,” I sob.
A door creaks open, and I’m shoved through, my shoulder smacking into a wall in the process.
“Get down,” someone orders.
I’m pushed to my knees, and I cry out as they collide with the concrete floor.
But I’m barely able to catch my breath as something heavy and cold snaps around my ankle.
A cuff.
“Wait. Please, just tell me where I am?—”
“Ye’rehome, Riley,” Sean says before something sharp hits the side of my head.
For a second, stars explode behind my eyes before darkness swallows me whole.
Pain.
It’s the first thing I register when I start to regain consciousness. A throbbing, heavy ache at the back of my skull that pulses in time with my heartbeat.
I reach up and touch the back of my head.
I don’t even have a chance to feel relief at the fact my hands are no longer bound because I find my hair is matted with blood.
“Oh, God.” I pull the blindfold off.
The light in the room is dim, but it’s enough to make my eyes sting after being trapped in darkness for Gods knows how long.
I blink until the blur steadies and the dim outlines around me come into focus.
An old mattress is beneath me, but from how little cushioning it provides, I can’t imagine many of the springs are remaining.
Glancing around, I find the room completely empty except for an old and rusted radiator heater that my ankle is cuffed to.
Before I can start to panic, I catch sight of the angry gash on my arm from the barbed wire and let out a strangled sob.
The skin is bright red and swollen and already seems to be leaking fluid other than blood. I’ve seen enough medical dramas to know that it isn’t good. It’s likely infected. And if that infection spreads to my bloodstream, my window for escape just got a hell of a lot smaller.
I press my palm against the wound. The flesh feels raw and hot, but I have nothing to clean it with.
My body starts rocking back and forth as I try to take a slow, steadying breath.
It’s almost impossible to do when I feel like the walls of this tiny cell are starting to close in on me.
I’m scared, not just of Sean or of the pain, but of what might happen if this gash gets worse, if the infection takes hold before anyone finds me.
I squeeze my eyes shut and press my forehead to my knees.
I have to stay calm. Panic will make everything worse. But every second that passes, every second that I spend chained up in this room, the more helpless I feel.
I have to do something.
“Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? Please!”
