Unbroken 2

*

It was only a few days later that I found myself curled on the mattress in the basement, sobbing my eyes out.

Everything had officially hit me.

I could hardly get out of bed. I’d woken up trembling, my heart racing, knowing I’d had nightmares all night, but I couldn’t remember a single one of them. The basement was cool, but my skin was slick with sweat. I was wearing a loose shirt that I’d found in the closet of one of the rooms and loose boxer shorts. I hadn’t bathed once since arriving, so I was still caked in bits and pieces of shit from that night. I was a bloody mess.

Miles ignored me the entire day. Not that we were getting along or anything. We’d barely exchanged words, but I knew he was getting along better than I was. For one thing, he’d bathed and changed his clothes, smelling like men’s cologne. He’d also been super active. I heard the generator go on throughout the day, a distant hum. There was a shed out front filled with barrels of fuel, and he had found somewhere to hide the car, but I didn’t ask about it. I didn’t ask about anything, actually, and I didn’t cook him shit.

I was depressed.

In a hole so black, I couldn’t see a way out of it.

I missed Hunter.

I missed Leo.

I didn’t know what was happening, and I was scared. It was easier to fall apart than to stay in one piece.

By the fourth day, Miles hovered over me, growling, “Get the fuck up, princess.”

I didn’t flinch.

“Up,” he repeated.

“No,” I returned, stubbornly.

“You gonna keep feeling sorry for yourself?”

“I’m hurting.”

“So am I.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not throwing in the towel and wallowing.”

“Good for you, Miles.”

He ripped the thin covers off my body and hurled it across the room. It landed over a crate of money—I only knew this because I had memorized every fucking crate in this room after being in it for so long. Feeling furious, I turned my body around to look up at him, roaring, “Go away!”

He stared down at me, his blue eyes seething. “No.”

“Fine.” I turned my back to him and cradled my knees to my chest. I shut my eyes, trying to sleep, or escape into that empty part of me that didn’t feel anything.

The mattress shifted underneath me. I rolled off, slamming into the concrete floor on a gasp as Miles hurled my mattress across the room. It landed on a few crates filled with guns. Now I was on the cool floor, my ass sore, my hip aching, and I was more pissed than I’d ever felt in my life. I stood up and furiously pushed at Miles’ hard chest, screaming, “Go away! Leave me alone!”

“Why?” he demanded.

“Because I want to be alone, obviously!”

“That’s the last thing you want—”

“You don’t know what I fucking want!”

“No one wants to be alone, princess—”

“Stop calling me that!”