She lets out a silent giggle.
“I forget stuff all the time, I’m sorry.” She shakes her head and laughs at herself.
“Nat, are you scared?”
“No,” she answers immediately and firmly. “I don’t get scared anymore. Lucien taught me how to use knives. I’m really good with knives.” She smiles proudly.
Oh my God.
“What do you do with knives, Nat?” I ask softly, since I can’t form the words properly with the ache in my chest.
“Usually just train, throw them.” She shrugs.
Usually.
Ugh. I feel the vomit rise in my stomach. I squeeze my eyes shut and press it back down.
“Nat,” I shouldn’t do this, but I still do. “Tell me what you remember about Adrien.”
And there it goes. The sharp glitch in her face. The freeze.
“Nat, I think you miss him, right?”
She moves so fast I barely see it. She shoots up from the bed, snatches the glass from the nightstand and hurls it at the wallwith such force it explodes on impact. Water and shards spray across the room.
I flinch, instinctively turning my head, metal biting into my wrists as the chain jerks. Before I can look back, the scream hits.
High, piercing, animal. It rips out of her like something tearing loose from her chest. Then it cuts off mid-sound as she bolts for the door, yanking it open and disappearing into the hallway. Her cries echo for a second, then muffle as the door slams shut behind her.
And just like that, I’m alone again.
My heart hammers against my ribs, my breath rough and shallow, metal cuffs digging into my skin every time I move.
This is the longest nightmare I’ve ever had. And I’m wide awake for every second of it.
Kiara
Three weeks earlier
I open my eyes, not sure what time or day it is, and look to the side, at the wooden table next to my bed, counting the little lines I tried to dig into the soft wood with my nails. Six lines.
My gaze lifts to one of the small windows, catching its bright light. It should be day seven.
Reaching for the nightstand, the chain pulls tight before I can get there, so I rattle it a little, loosening it around the metal hold, just enough to reach the wood. My thumbnail sinks into the soft surface, slicing into it, leaving line number seven.
A deep breath escapes me as I sit up on the bed, counting my possibilities like every morning.
Nat takes me to the toilet twice a day. There is no way to escape on the way to the toilet, not even a window. My hands are tied in handcuffs all the time, so whatever weapon I take, I won’t be able to use it properly unless it’s a gun. One of the men I caught a glimpse of always wears his gun strapped to his thigh. That’s easy to reach. I could get to him somehow. Maybe.
I try to take in most of the surroundings on the way in and out of the toilet, but there is just a long hall with sconces, and one huge door to some library or office, where I spared a look at the guy with the reachable gun. But whenever I see a man, he’s always surrounded by a couple more. It’s pointless.
I need to work on Natalya more.
It always comes down to the same thing. If I ask about Kasien, it’s empty. Only a glimpse of pain before some switch inside her head turns it off.
And when I ask about Adrien, it gets fucking crazy. Either it’s the high-pitched screaming that has practically drilled a hole into my head at this point, or she’s trying to rip her hair out until she can’t breathe anymore and throws something instead.
I earned another dose of midazolam from Lucien after her last tantrum. It ruined my day count. I was so confused and disoriented I could’ve slept for two days. I need to do something before they get here. Before they get killed because of me.
