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I knew the feeling of cold, damp cement and cinderblocks, the scent of stale air and unwashed bodies, the sounds of my own heartbeat in my ears, speeding up even when I tried to play the part of the jaded youth.
I knew what Ferryn was going through.
I knew the sensation of timelessness, of how minutes could have been hours, hours could have been years.
I knew what it felt like to try to slip into survival mode, find weak spots, learn how to exploit them in the off chance they might lead to freedom.
She'd do that, too.
Not because she led the shitestorm of a life I had, knowing there was not a single hope of someone coming to save me, so I needed to save myself. But because she was smart, trained, willful. Because she would want to try to save herself. And anyone else she might find along the way.
She could handle herself in a lot of ways.
But I had swam in the gutters of this ugly world; I knew what wicked things awaited young girls in basements. Especially around scum like V. Even if she was her grandmother.
The fracture started and spread at the idea of that spirit of hers being broken by forces beyond her control.
And the guilt kicked in because while those thoughts - of Ferryn, of her safety, or her chances for survival - should have been all I could focus on while she was missing.
But there was no stopping the thoughts of her.
Of Lou.
Lou with her hardass shell. And the suspected soft center. With her snarky attitude, but love of dogs. With her haughty dismissal of the bond between us paired with the way she turned liquid and purring with just a few touches.
Me, a man who had never thought much about what a woman I was interested in - mainly because I was never interested in anyone - was thinking, was consumed day and night with what she must have been thinking.
About what had already happened.
What could happen.
What she thought about this separation, my inability to let her know what was going on.
I didn't have her number.
And I hadn't been able to find the half an hour I would need to go and check in with her. If she would even be there with her unpredictable work schedule.
Fuck, maybe I should have sent her a goddamn letter.
Something so that she knew I was serious about finishing what we had started. And more.
But that just felt like the wrong route.
Interactions with Lou had to be in person. Where she couldn't hide. Where her reactions would be right there on her face as they always were, things I could use to work with, to gauge what she really felt against what she said she did.
I understood guards.
And I normally respected them.
But I wanted to dismantle hers.
I wanted to cozy myself within them.
Which was why the moment we all realized there was nothing to be done to find Ferryn once she was free, once she ran off to do fuck-knew what, once I was back in Navesink Bank, debriefing everyone left behind, showering, and changing, I headed right toward our apartment building, knocking, hearing Linny barking, but getting no response.
It wasn't until I got the call from Roderick that I knew where she had been all night.
Drinking with the girls.
Babbling about me on the way home.
She's off her ass, Roderick had added, making it clear I couldn't have any kind of discussion with her until she sobered up. Her liver had pulled a double. It needed some time to process things.
I had unlocked the door once late at night, taking Linny out for a walk, making sure Lou was on her side on the couch. Then I had left her alone, coming back around ten, taking Linny out, feeding her, making coffee, then finally opening the window, hoping the light might rouse her.
She slept like the dead.
Not snoring, just un-wakeable.
I'd even slammed cabinets.
I had no idea if it was a drunk thing or a normal thing, but I intended to find out.
Though maybe a night of sleep after a solid dicking wouldn't be the best test case either. Then again, if I had my way, she would spend all her nights solidly fucked from here until, well, whenever.
I wasn't a forever guy.
She wasn't a forever girl.
So we would likely be a whenever pair.
Besides, no one could genuinely, no bullshite, say the word 'forever' without mostly lying. Since not a fucking one of us knows what our future holds, if forever is a word we even have the right to offer someone.
I had an odd feeling in my center though, like a knot twisted just under my ribcage, that whenever wasn't going to be simply in a day or two with Lou. Or even a week or two. Month or two. I had a strange, uncharacteristic idea that with Lou, it was going to take a good, long time.
