Page 31 of Mercy & Malice

17

MICAH

She’s hunched in the corner, her knees inside my T-shirt and shivering like crazy. All she’s wearing is one piece of goddamn clothing. And it’s my fault. She gave her warm clothes up to get me out of shackles.

I’m a fucking piece of shit. I’ve spent so much time being angry and hating her for betraying me. Now, I don’t know if she’ll ever be able to forgive me.

Dropping beside her, I lean against the hard metal poles, then situate her between my legs, attempting to wrap her in as much warmth as I can. Her freezing hands press against my chest as she stirs. Franticly, she searches around then relaxes against me. “It wasn’t just a nightmare.”

It’s a nightmare. Just one we won’t wake up from.

She utters, “We don’t even know how long we’ve been here.”

It’s part of the mind game. The windows are covered so we can’t tell if it’s day or night or track how much time has passed. “It’s gotten colder. I’m guessing it’s nighttime.”

“What are we going to do?” she whispers.

“Not take off any more of your clothes for starters.” It comes out harsher than it should.

“Do you think they’ll make me?”

I know what she’s asking. I’ll die before anyone lays a finger on her. “I won’t let them touch you. I swear.”

Her trembling doesn’t stop as I pull her tighter to me.

She says, “I know you’re cold. I’m sorry you had to give me your shirt.”

“Why the fuck do you feel like you need to apologize for that?” I stare down at her as she leans back and looks up at me. “You stripped down and exposed yourself for my sake. How will I ever make that up to you?”

“Get us out of here and we’ll call it even.” Brooke lets out a humorless laugh that turns into a sob.

“I will.” I have to.

She pulls away, standing as she explores our cage. “There’s a shower. Do you think there’s hot water? Maybe we can warm up a little?”

There’s not. “You’ll freeze if you get drenched.”

“Yes, I know, genius,” she states and I’m relieved to hear her sarcasm and some determination return to her. “I meant from the steam.”

Reaching through the bars, she twists the knob, waiting as water sprays from a showerhead and through the bars. Her fingers reach into the stream a few times before she twists the knob. “Nope.” Then she eyes the toilet. “Can you turn around? I really need to pee.”

I give her my back, my head pressed against the bar as she grumbles, “At least the sick bastards left us toilet paper.”

That’s all they left in here. Shackles and toilet paper. What a fucking treat.

The toilet flushes before I hear her speak right behind me. “They plan on keeping us here a long time, don’t they?”

“I don’t know.” I wish I did. Not knowing what’s coming is the worst.

And the longer I sit here, the more I want to crawl out of my skin.

Sometime later, the door opens and a bastard walks over to set two bottles of water on the floor. Warden then opens a sleeve of crackers, dumping the contents just outside of the cage.

He waits, watching as neither of us move.

As soon as he’s out the door, Brooke asks, “Why are they doing this to us?”

“To humiliate us,” I reply.