I wish I could go back to that moment. Where she was running toward me and so close. Where she’d inevitably be in reach.
“Don’t hide from me.” Her words were ragged as she pulled me into her chest. She rocked me too fast, she held me too hard before gripping my arms and making me look her in the eyes. I’ll never forget how hers watered over. “You can’t hide like that.” Her words were so pained, they came out as only a whisper.
“I’m sorry, Momma,” I tried to speak the words, so she knew I meant them. “I was only playing.”
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she pulled me back into her arms and rocked me.
She whispered many things, but the one that’s stayed with me is that we don’t live in a world where we can play.
I should have known better than to run after Mika.
Every possible situation of a setup runs through my head as I bite my thumbnail and rock against the cement wall. I can’t sit. My legs beg me to run, but with nowhere to go, I simply stand and lean on the far wall across from the door. Waiting for it to open.
I was only playing myself, thinking that I could prove myself to be anything when I went to hunt down Mika. I was childish and foolish. I can hear my mother saying it now. How foolish she was, she said it all the time before she died. And foolish is what I’ve become.
I keep whispering that I’m sorry, and I know the man is watching me. Carter. That’s what the men called him.
Carter Cross. I know he can hear my whispers of despair.
I’m not saying it to him though; it’s an apology to my mother. I should have known better than to chase after the memory of her in that picture. The words are spoken as I focus on the metal drain in the corner of the room.
Between the toilet, mattress, and drain, I know this room is meant for prisoners, but also for torture and murder. One and then the other.
I’ve searched every inch; the sides of my hands are bruised from pounding against the tall steel door. There’s simply no escape. One way in, and one way out.
I should have fought harder when Jase Cross, Carter’s brother from what I overheard, held the rag to my mouth.
Stolen, drugged, and reassigned to a prison: that’s what my life has become.
The faint sounds of the camera moving drag my attention back to it. It’s the one thing in the room I wish I could destroy. There’s only one from what I can tell, and it’s in the far right corner of the room.
But the camera is encased in cement and untouchable, if throwing the metal chair was any indication. As I stare at the mattress, I wrap my arms around myself. I won’t sleep on it; there’s no way my back will ever touch it.
I suck in a deep breath, reliving the feeling of those dark eyes pinning me in place.
I know what he wants from me, but he’ll have to fight me to get it. I’ll kick him, bite him, scratch him until my nails break and bleed.
I’ll make him regret this if it’s the last thing I do.
My fingers lift slowly up to my jaw and then trail down my throat. Remembering how his gentle comfort so easily became a threat.
My heart thumps hard, once then twice as I hear the fucking camera move again.
“What are you moving it for?” I scream out like a madwoman, as loud as I can. My throat is hoarse from the screaming before, my body screaming along with me in a shuddered breath.
“I’m not fucking going anywhere!” I scream again and then wrap my arms tighter around myself as I fall to the floor on my ass and then my side. Just the way I was when that monster first found me.
The cuts on the sides of my wrists touch the dirty cement floor. I should lie on the mattress. I know I should, even as my tearstained cheeks rest on the unforgiving floor.
If, for no other reason than to have the energy to fight another day. He’s waiting me out, I think. And that’s something I can’t fight. Hours and hours have passed.
I don’t know how much time has elapsed exactly, but I know I have to sleep. I can’t stay awake forever, waiting for whatever’s next.
I’m powerless and completely at Carter’s mercy. And he’s not even here. He had me stolen from my home, then nearly left me in the kidnapper’s arms. And now that he has me, he’s left me to go crazy on my own.
That’s exactly how I feel as my heavy eyes stare at the steel door and sleep threatens to take over. When you don’t know what’s waiting for you, what you’ll have to fight, it can do that to you. It can make you feel crazy.