Hunt
Page 63
The bird flapped its wings and rose away from the fire.
“Yes.” I reached my hands out to touch it.
The bird flew away.
“Don’t go!” I grabbed at air. Only snowflakes fell into my hand.
The bird soared into the gray clouds, escaping my grip.
“No!” I woke in a sitting position on the bed and opened my eyes. My hands were outstretched in front of me just like in the dream. My fingers shook. My heart boomed in my chest. Tears swelled in my eyes.
Fucking dream.
I brought my hands to my face and rubbed the tears away before they could fall down my face. My heart ached. My head throbbed.
Stupid fucking dream.
I covered my face with both hands and trembled.
Phoenix’s soft voice sounded next to me. “What did you dream about?”
She’s talking to me.
I dropped my hands into my lap and turned to the only salvation I’d ever found in this shitty world.
Phoenix looked up at me with those warm, welcoming eyes. “What was the nightmare about?”
“It wasn’t a nightmare.” I steadied my breathing. “Not exactly.”
She sat up in bed, yet had to keep the one cuffed hand extended. “What do you mean?”
“It was an. . .old memory that. . .turned into an odd dream.”
“Which part made you scream?”
I gulped down sadness. “Do you have to go to the bathroom?”
“No.” She tugged at the handcuff. “But, I would like to stretch my arm and move it differently.”
I studied her, wondering if she had a plan of escape spinning inside her beautiful head.
She whispered, “I won’t run.”
“There’s nowhere that you could run to.”
“I understand that more now than ever, but do you?”
“I’m scared.”
“Me too.”
“I don’t think you have stopped wanting to escape.”
“I haven’t.”
“Then, why should I take the handcuffs off?”
“Because I don’t see a path to escape, so I won’t.”
“That’s not enough.”
“It has to be enough for now, Cain.”
Sighing, I grabbed the keys from the nightstand and brought them back to the bed. “Keep talking.”
“I will.”
I unlocked the cuff. “Will there be any more protests coming from you?”
She moved her wrist and rubbed it with her other hand. This time, she didn’t grab for Dr. Fuzzy. “What did you dream about?”
“I asked my question first.”
“Actually, I asked mine minutes before you asked yours.”
“I don’t care about my dream. I care more about you always being by my side.”
“And I want to know what would make you sit up and scream.” Phoenix moved the covers and left the bed.
With each of her steps, I was ready to leap for her. But she gave the door no glance and didn’t even go near it.
Instead, she headed to the bathroom.
Curious, I rose and followed.
Chapter 17
Stockholm Syndrome
PHOENIX
I
entered the bathroom, needing to walk out my nervousness.
I knew Cain wouldn’t let me leave the master suit. It was better to stay within his eyesight, but start getting him used to my not being handcuffed and us having space.
Plus, I was half-naked.
I stopped at the sink and began washing my hands, needing something to do. The whole time sadness and curiosity spun around in my head.
What made him scream like that?
The scream wasn’t human. It was animalistic. Feral. Crystalizing the air in darkness. It was pain. It was heartbreak. It was terror. And it ripped into my soul and pulled everything out.
What scared him so much?
I turned off the water and touched my stomach with wet hands, wondering if all the parts of me were still there.
I didn’t know a human could scream that way?
It sounded like the buzzing of a million demons flying by on battered wings. Deep and rumbling. The sound went in and out, thickening the air and pounding, pounding deep within my ears and forcing me to awaken.
That was when I saw Cain, sitting up with his eyes closed and his hands stretched out towards the heavens as if hoping to touch God. It was the first time upon knowing him where he looked vulnerable and so broken.
In that moment, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. My tongue was thick and heavy as it sat uselessly in my mouth. My eyes burned with tears that I hadn’t cried yet. My chest ached.
I just wanted to sit up and hug Cain.
When I lived in Victory Park, I’d heard noises like that in the bathrooms late at night. Other teens would scream like they were falling through the air and there was no ground in sight.
Sometimes Quin and I went to them. Not knowing the teen’s name or story, we would just huddle up in the corner and hold them.
Other times Quin and I didn’t move. We just lay there, staring up at the ceiling with our eyes open, wanting to scream ourselves, but holding it deep within. . .so deep we couldn’t move for ourselves or anybody else.
But, what did Cain dream about?
When Cain finally opened his eyes, his whole body rocked forward.