“Please, no. Please, no,” he whimpers.
I glance at him, then back to the shadowed figure in the doorway.
“It will be okay,” I assure him, with my heart in my throat. I stand in front of him. Maybe it’s because I’m a nurse and the patient always comes first, or maybe I’m just stupid.
“Look, whatever your beef is with them is fine, but you need to let him go. He needs a hospital. Now,” I say, my voice wavering slightly. My mind is whirling a hundred miles a minute.
Get him to a hospital, get Suzie, and get the fuck out of here.
The shadow figure comes closer, almost as if they’re floating. I frown. The dim lightof the room highlights their sharp features—a jawline that could cut paper—but that’s not what sends fear creeping up my spine. Their eyes are molten.
I freeze, my entire body unable to move.
“Who, who are you?” I whisper, barely able to form a sound.
“Kill him. Take the girl,” a deep voice orders from behind.
In a blur, hands wrap around my waist and lift me like I’m nothing more than a child. I try to fight, but it’s no use. I look over his shoulder to yell and run, to tell the guy to get out, but my throat closes up when I see his lifeless body slumped with blood pouring from his neck.
How? When did that happen?
Whoever is holding me carries me through the main part of the warehouse where the party was.
Suzie.
I look around frantically.
“Suzie!” I call out. I try twisting in his arms to look. “Suz?—”
My words die as my throat clogs up at the sight before me. Suzie’s lifeless body. Her face is stricken with fear. My eyes lock on the single gunshot wound to her temple.
“Suzie,” I whimper. Tears fillmy eyes. “Suzie,” I cry out. “Suzie!” I scream as anger and pain course through me.
I kick and hit the guy who’s holding me. He doesn’t even wobble or struggle to contain me. He keeps walking like I’m as light as a feather and perfectly still.
“You killed her! You killed my best friend!” I roar, heart-breaking agony ripping me apart.
I’m thrown with force into the back of a van, my body slamming into the back wall.
“You ain’t supposed to break her,” I hear one of them say.
I don’t cry out in pain. I curl up, bringing my knees to my chest, and I cry.
“See? She isn’t broken,” the one who carried me answers before slamming the back of the van shut, locking me in darkness.
I hear the front doors open and close and the murmur of voices. I lie there, letting the tears fall, not caring where they are taking me or what they plan on doing to me.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been lying there when the van doors are wrenched open, making me flinch. Nothing is said as I’m picked up and carried indoors. It’s dark, and I can’t tell where we are. There is no noise—no music, no talking—only silence as I’m carried through the building.
A door opens, and I feel myself being dropped onto a bed. I scuttle back into the corner, my eyes wild, searching everywhere, trying to guess where I am. The room is dark, bare—nothing but the bed I’m on. It’s so dark it’s hard to make anything out. The walls feel like dark stone, no light apart from the trickle of moonlight coming from a small window.
My eyes flicker to the shadows as they leave the room.
“Where am I?” I ask.
They don’t answer as they just shut and lock the door behind them.
Not wasting a single moment, I jump up and make my way to the small window, trying to see if I can open it. My fingers trail along the edges, feeling for a latch in the dark. Nothing.
