Page 46 of Coal Hearts

Claustrophobia slashed at my veins, and hysteria bubbled in my belly.

All I wanted to do was let go of the tightly tangled emotions and scream, scream, scream!

I needed to shout, fight, punch, kick, and kill.

But the memory of the guard’s gun against my temple made me swallow all those fizzing urges.

I sat in aching silence.

Henri sighed heavily beside me, and any spark I’d felt toward him—any idiotic awareness or stupid, stupid connection—was nothing more than cinders on the airplane floor.

I’d never been so affected by someone’s appearance before, and what had it gotten me?

Pain.

Despair.

Imprisonment.

Fuck him.

Fuck all of them.

Leave, Ily. Just for a little while.

I closed my eyes and did my best to sink into a meditation.

I’d been raised in a household that was as diligent about meditation as some were about prayers before dinner. Each morning before school, Krish and I would sit on matching yoga mats and Dad would guide us through a visualization. I’d stopped when I moved in with Sam because he snickered at me each time I tried to sit in silence.

I’d grown self-conscious.

I’d let him take away one of the most magical parts of my day.

I missed it.

God, I missed it.

I missed the peace, the serenity, and the bone-deep knowledge I was more.

I supposed it made sense why I turned to it now. Why desperation drove me into any attempt at freedom—real or imaginary.

Focusing on my breathing, I did my best to sink out of this world.

I focused on a grounding cord of light. I spun the wheels of my chakras.

And nothing.

My mind didn’t explode with rainbows and calm.

It remained black and miserable, firmly trapping me in the airplane with three bastards.

A sob wrapped itself around my throat.

Everything that’d happened—the breakup with Sam, the near-rape with Henri, and the kidnapping by Victor—chose that moment to suffocate.

I hadn’t just lost my freedom; I’d lost myself. I’d lost a sliver of myself every day I let Sam mock my passions, and now...I had nothing.

God, Ily...you’ve really messed up.