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“Did you have a plan for what you were going to do next?” He was perusing me as if we had all the time in the world.
“Look, this wasn’t my best choice. Can you get me out of here, or are you waiting for me to beg? Can you bring me back to the outpost?”
He’d be the type thatwouldmake me beg for help. Didn’t matter that I was being tortured and had obviously made a wrong step, literally.
I was lying on the ground, curled on my side, pain shooting through me. There wasn’t one part of me that wasn’t in excruciating agony, from my scalp to my little toe.
“I can, but it’ll make it worse, if you can imagine that. Once you force the transition the way you did, it’s best to wait it out here.”
I rolled on my back, trying to breathe through the pain. When that didn’t work, I turned to my other side. Switching positions wouldn’t help, but lying still seemed impossible.
“How long?” I asked.
He laid his hand on my cheek and then moved it down to my neck, his eyes intent, as if he were taking my measure. “Depends on the person, but I don’t think it’ll be too bad. There’s nothing I can do until it starts to wane a bit. Good news is you’ll survive it.”
I moaned, closing my eyes. Why did I have to be so stubborn? Why? Worst part was that I wouldn’t learn. I’d do something stupid again in a month, a few months, a year. It was like the reckless, rotten part I’d gotten from my father had to leak out here and there.
“I’m going to have to carry you. This is going to hurt, but you don’t look especially mobile.”
I had no delusions of being able to walk. None at all.
He waited, giving me a moment to prepare myself. I nodded.
Every place he touched my skin hurt. I focused all my energy on trying to breathe and not vomit. When he hoisted me over his shoulder, I barely kept the vomit down.
“Try not to move too much,” he said.
“Why?” I swallowed, and swallowed again, regretting talking at all.
“I’d rather people assume you are passed out or dead so they don’t pay as close attention.”
There wasn’t anything he could’ve said that would’ve been worse. That a presumed dead or incapacitated body would draw the least attention spoke volumes of the place I’d been so anxious to enter.
He walked at a brisk pace, my weight not hindering him at all. I didn’t open my eyes or stir, and it had nothing to do with what he’d said. It took every ounce of control I had left not to humiliate myself further by getting sick all down his back. I didn’t look until we were climbing the stairs of a stone building.
He placed me down on the sofa, more gently than I’d imagined him capable. I sized up my new surroundings, taking in the clean lines and minimalistic style. The large open-floor plan and use of stone and wood. My appraisal ended there as another wave of pain racked my body.
There was a clinking sound as Kaden placed a glass of water on the table beside me and then picked up a remote, turning on the large TV over the fireplace.
“Harry Potter marathon to pass the time while you wait this out?” he asked, glancing back at me.
“You like Harry Potter?” Telling me he was the devil would’ve shocked me less.
He shrugged. “No idea. I never watched it.”
That made more sense somehow. I nodded, trying to find a comfortable position that didn’t exist.
The familiar sounds of the opening theme started up, and I shifted to get a better view. He settled on the other side of the sectional.
“You’re going to stay and watch it?”
“I’ve never seen it,” he said, as if that had been a strange question.
I lay there watching for a while and then closed my eyes, listening instead. I’d never admit this aloud, but there was something comforting about having another person there, even if itwashim.
Kaden’s hand grazed my head, startling me, and my eyes flew open.
“What are you—”
