Page 31

"I didn't tell him anything. Why would I? I assumed he already knew. He told me you were his grandfather."

"How do you know him?" Mario asks curtly.

"I… I don't know. He's just a guy who eats at my restaurant. I don't know him, not really."

Mario's eyes narrow. "And what did he tell you?"

This is weird. If this is some kind of trap interrogation to test how easily I would spill the beans to anyone outside of this fucked up little circle, then I fail to see the point. They've already threatened to kill me, so what would I have to gain?

"He told me you were his grandfather," I repeat sharply, gritting my teeth. "Why?"

"Anything else?"

I glance up at the guard who stands there silently, his fist still in my hair. "Like what?"

The man shakes me slightly as Mario takes a step forward. "Anything."

"No."

"Did he tell you how he traveled here? Who he was with? How many?"

"What?" Our gazes meet once more. "No. He didn't tell me anything like that! Look, he just climbed up here because he was surprised to see me. He said he'd been looking for me and then I just… I told him to leave when I found out who he was."

Who he really was.

Mario's expression doesn't change, but he finally nods his head, and the guard releases me. A smattering of pain trickles across the back of my head as my hair settles back down, then the guard steps away and Mario sighs.

"Tomorrow, we will be taking you to the hospital for the transplant," he says warmly, as if it should be something I should be excited about. "Illyana is not in a good way and I won't wait any longer. If you play your part without complaint, I will stand by my word." His smile flashes again. "You will be returned home and compensated."

I can't think of anything to say. He watches me expectantly, waiting for some kind of thank you, but I'm too worn out to do anything other than nod once. It's good enough, thankfully, because he turns and leaves the room while the guard remains in the corner like a creepy, leering statue.

The door closes and locks once more, leaving me to a now uncomfortable silence under the weight of being watched.

My face hurts. My heart hurts. Everything about this is weighing me down like hands are physically pressing down on my shoulders, and I'm struggling to make sense of all of this.

All those years ago, when I was snatched and manipulated and used without knowing any better, I thought that was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. This is worse. Much worse.

I crawl backward on the bed and huddle into the pillows, cuddling one to my chest and resting my aching cheek against the cold fabric. Keeping my back to the guard is the only way I can cling to the illusion that I'm alone. His being here tells me they suspect I'll try to do something that will get me out of tomorrow, but I don't have that strength anymore.

I want to go home. I want to close my eyes and wake up somewhere else and find out that this is all some crazy, weird dream brought about by some cheese or bad shrimp. The weight of exhaustion and tears gradually settles into my eyelids and each blink grows slower and slower. Sleeping doesn't feel safe, but in the end I lose the battle and once my eyes close, they don't reopen.

Not until several hours later.

The room is dark and a cool breeze drifts over my bare arm from the open balcony doors, through which glittering moonlight pours in and washes the entire room in a pale light.

Did I leave the doors open?

No, I remember closing them. Maybe the guard opened them? The balcony looks empty from here, so I ease up onto one stiff shoulder only to catch the sound of scuffling behind me. I turn slowly, body heavy from sleep, and stare wide-eyed at the scene before me.

Someone clad head to toe in black is wound around the shoulders and head of my guard. Their legs are locked around his chest, and their hands are cradling his face while sliding around to wrap their entire arms around his head. One hand covers his mouth, muffling his sounds, and the two of them stumble back into the wall with a soft thud.

My lips part and a scream rises as the sickening crack of broken bone reaches my ears, but before the sound even has a chance to rise inside me, cloth covers my mouth while a strong arm sweeps around my waist and drags me right out of the bed. My heart lurches and my stomach jolts as I'm lifted. My only glimpse of the stranger is that they're dressed the same as the other person, only they stand much taller and broader.

I breathe in through the fabric. Something sweet catches at the back of my throat, and the rolling urge to gag sweeps up through me, only to catch behind my teeth. In a flash, I'm back with the people dragging me into the van, so I start to struggle like my life depends on it. My hands flail, desperate to catch onto something, but all they grasp is air. I kick out forward and behind but again, there's nothing because the stranger holds me high enough that I have nothing to reach.

My vision rapidly grows hazy as the sweetness clogs my lungs, and the last thing I hear as the smaller figure in black moves toward me is a strange, soothing hush in my ear.

This darkness isn't like sleep. It weighs heavily on me, like my limbs have turned to stone and all my energy is being spent on ensuring that I keep breathing. Soft, slow breaths that come back warm each time I breathe in.