Did, when the door was still between us.
I could hear her whimpers.
I bite my bottom lip and push back on the fathomless fury inside of my bones as Sanford gingerly scrabbles from the ladder, clawing onto the stone wall of the well and hauling himself over with a wince.
I do not help him.
I do not trust him.
I do not understand why or how he disappeared when Writhe first tore me apart from Karia. Although now that we have taken this underground corridor from the dungeon-like basement, I imagine there are many trap doors within the hotel.
I lift my gaze past him as he leans against the wooden beams supporting the small roof over the false well, and high on the rolling hill above, I see the outline of the building, jutting up toward the sable sky. There are no lights on in the dozens of windows—none that I can see—from the rear view.
I wonder if even now we are wasting time catching our breath.
I would be surprised if Stein didn’t know about this corridor himself; I can only hope the bruises along his throat and the lack of oxygen he needed to recover from were enough to stop him.
Or perhaps he was shot in the fray we left behind. That wouldn’t give me the vengeance I want, though. For that reason alone, I hope he is still alive, dreadingme.
“Now what?” Karia asks, her voice high and clipped. She is frightened, but trying to pretend she is not.
I smile to myself, turning to watch her.
She has our bag in both hands, gripping the shorter, deep emerald carrying straps, the duffel knocking softly against her shins. Her gaze is on Sanford, who is still recovering, his chin dipped, hands on his middle, gray streaks of his hair gleaming white in the night.
He is wheezing, but not collapsing. I wonder just how much living beneath the surface of the earth has twisted his human senses, his body’s capabilities.
I find I feel no sorrow or pity.
He claims he tried to protect my mother,me,but clearly, he did not try hard enough. I am still running from my father at the age of twenty fucking three, and I am still not the sort of man Karia Ven could truly fall in love with.
“We can’t stay here long,” Sanford says, staring at the ground. He is tall, lean, and despite his sagging posture now, his limbs belie the sort of sinewy strength expected in a much younger man.
“No shit,” the princess of Writhe snaps back.
I bite the inside of my cheek as I ignore the pain in my gut, the spots starting to crowd my vision once more. It’s like I have been living on adrenaline. On the shoddy work Klein, Stein’s personal doctor and my personal hell, made of me.
I push him to the back of my mind.
We have left him.
He will not touch her.
Still, even I understand I need to find another doctor, and soon. This medical glue will only hold so long, and the risk of infection will grow when it bursts.
I look up from my lashes to find Karia still staring down Sanford. I wonder if she is avoiding looking at me becauseshe already saw too much. I wanted to rip down every green goddamn light above our heads as we fled; without a hoodie, the shame of exposure might kill me before the shallow stab wound does so.
I glance at the bag in her hands.
You idiot.
I cross the space between us, my shoes sinking a little in the damp earth, and I reach for the bag, tugging it away from her more rudely than I should. She half-heartedly tries to keep hold of it, but when her eyes meet mine, she releases it, and I wonder if she wants me to hide my hideousness as much as I do.
I don’t let my gaze linger.
I do not know if I want to see the truth.
If she can’t stand the sight of me, she certainly could neverlikeme.
