God, it consumed my thoughts. Day and night, it haunted me. Plagued my waking hours and my nightmares.
I woke up cold and sticky with sweat, gasping for breath and terrified that I was back in that awful place, that Dr. Thompson had me on a leash, a chain around my throat, and he was slowly tightening the noose…
It was still dark outside, but I threw the covers off and got out of bed. I didn’t bother turning the lights on as I made my way to the kitchen.
Standing in the glow of the open refrigerator, I grabbed the orange juice and drank it right out of the carton. The citric acid burned all the way down.
My bare feet scuffed over the tile floor as I paced the length of the kitchen, turned on my heel, and went back the way I came. I ran my hands through my hair, gripping at strands as River’s wild, glassy eyes filled my vision.
Fuck it.
I grabbed my phone and in one last desperate attempt to prove to myself that I was wrong—or maybe that I was right, I didn’t even fucking know anymore—I texted River.
I hadn’t reached out to him in months. For all I knew, he could’ve changed his number, or blocked mine. But I texted him anyway.
Hey. I know you probably hate me, and I don’t blame you. I kind of hate me too, but I need to know something. In the facility, when Dr. Thompson bred us? Were you drugged?
I pressed send. Watched the little dots go from sent to delivered, so at least I know it reached him, but there was no answer.
My phone remained silent.
With a sigh, I slipped it back into my PJ pocket and sat down at the table.
It was probably too early for him to be up. Not quite five in the morning, and the birds had barely begun their chatter. Still… They had a baby in the house. Surely it kept them awake all hours of the night.
Maybe I’d get a text later.
Or maybe he’d just ignore it, leave me on read. I couldn’t really blame him if he did. I tried to destroy his family after all.
After checking the most recent stuff on my social media feed, I got up and put a pod in the Keurig. Setting a coffee mug on the tray, I pressed the round “brew” button and waited for the aroma of French roast to fill the kitchen.
I had just gone to fetch the creamer from the fridge when my phone dinged. I froze, my heart suddenly clawing its way up my throat, beating there, merciless.
River?
I pulled out my phone. It took me a moment to focus on the screen, my eyes were blurring so badly. But there it was, in stark black and white. A direct response to my text.
Every. Damn. Time.
No…
The phone fell from my hand, my grip on reality loosening.
My heart bottomed out, caving in at the same time that my chest did. My knees threatened to buckle, to spill me on my ass. I clapped a hand over my mouth to stop the sobs from escaping.
No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening to me.
They drugged River. River never wanted me. River never loved me. All those storylines I patched together in my mind, pacing the floors of that cold, white cell room, of myself and River escaping and living happily ever after… They fractured and splintered, shattering like glass.
Unable to hold it back any longer, a low, tortured wail erupted from me as I collapsed in a heap on the kitchen floor.
I hugged my arms to my sides, hunched over my midsection, sobbing so hard my ribs felt cracked. God, how could I be so blind? So fuckingstupid?
Another cry burst from me, gasped out, when suddenly a shadow fell over me. I jerked back, baring my fangs, but it was only Adam.
“Sky? What happened?”
The next onslaught of tears blurred his face, but his scent was familiar, and when he reached for me, I sank into his arms.
