17
Someone was crying.
It wasn't the kind of crying that wanted comfort.No, it was the wet, gulping kind that came when someone had been at it for a while and had given up on being quiet.
Emily tried to move.
Her wrists didn't come with her.
Something hard bit into her pinned wrists, pain shooting up her arms and making her wince.
What the fuck?
Her eyes shot open, and she twisted around to try and see what the hell was going on.Consciousness came back a little more, and she grunted.Cuffs.She was in cuffs that twisted her arms behind her and made her shoulders scream.
She yanked again, but the cuffs didn't give.They were bolted to something behind her, a pipe or a rail or something.Shit.Her fingers were half numb, the circulation partly cut off, and the way she was crunched up made her shoulders feel like her arms had been twisted out of their sockets.
Shaking her head to clear the fuzziness, she got barely a second before what had happened slammed back.
Leaving Raaevik in bed, her desperate flight through the station to the escape point, and the cargo bay doors.She'd walked through them knowing that was it; she couldn't go back.But she'd done it anyway, knowing it was the only way to save Raaevik's life.
Then Lucy…
The crying hitched, then carried on.Emily zeroed in on it, struggling to sit up from where she'd half slumped against the wall and floor.
Lucy sat three feet away, knees drawn up, and her face buried in her arms.She wasn't cuffed, her arms wrapped around her knees.
Emily's eyes narrowed.Lucy had fucked her over.Offered escape, but all the while she was planning on?—
She dropped her head back with a groan.Sacrificial lamb.Again.
When she got out of this…ifshe got out of this, she was never trusting people again.She was getting cats.Lots of cats.Cat-siblings for Barnaby.Tears pricked the backs of her eyes at the thought of the big, ginger tom with his broken-engine purr.What if she never made it back to him?What if?—
She cut that thought off mid-stream.No, fuck that, she wasn't giving in like that.Looking around, she took in their surroundings.
Okay, this wasn't the shuttle.Definitely not the shuttle.
The space was larger and rougher...a cargo hold.Scarred metal walls, peeling paint, overhead lights buzzed and flickered, casting a yellow haze.The deck vibrated with a deep rumble that she felt in her teeth and the base of her skull.Wherever they were going, the ship was running hard.
She flexed her fingers behind her back, trying to get some feeling back.The cuffs were too tight, and her head ached where the rifle butt had connected.Probing the inside of her cheek with her tongue, she found the swollen area where she'd bitten down.
Lucy's sobs paused, and Emily turned to look at her, meeting red-rimmed eyes.
She said nothing.
Silence stretched between them as Lucy's sobs grew louder, building to a peak before dropping to a whisper.Waves of desperation begged to be noticed.
Emily counted the rivets on the far wall.
Fourteen.Fifteen.Sixteen.
Lucy's crying softened, then grew louder again.
Emily kept counting, tilting her head to look up.
Twenty-three.Twenty-four.
"Emily."Lucy's voice was raw, scraped hollow."Emily, please.Say something."
