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19
Langston
Why is Liesel trying to protect me? That’s my job.
I’ve threatened her life.
Killed her fiancé.
Gotten married despite telling her I never would.
I’ve been awful to her. And yet, she still protects me. I won’t let her. It’s my job to defend her.
“No, Liesel,” I plead for her not to do this, not to offer up herself to protect me in any way. I want to call her huntress, but I dare not use my nickname for her in the presence of these horrible men.
She doesn’t even hesitate as she walks out of the room. It’s almost as if she doesn’t even hear me.
The door is shut after she leaves. A roar of pain rips through my body, but because of my drugged up state, it doesn’t leave my stomach. My head spins with a fog, and my body doesn’t function. I try to tell my legs to move, to stand up, but the signal gets lost between my brain and my legs. My muscles feel like jello.
I fall forward, trying to go after her.
“Easy there, don’t injure yourself on our watch. We’ll have our asses ripped if there is a single new mark on you,” one of the guards left in my room says.
“Just wait until the drugs have worn off; you two will be the first to die,” I threaten.
The man chuckles. “Who says we are ever going to let the drugs wear off? We know what you are capable of, which is why we have to keep drugging you. We aren’t stupid enough to let that happen.”
They plan on keeping me drugged.
Shit.
I’m not going to be able to rescue Liesel. I’m going to have to find a way to fight through the drugs. I can do this; I just need time.
Move, leg.
It moves. Not enough to get me very far or to fight, but enough to give me hope that with enough practice, I’ll be able to fight through the drugs I’m given. If I can pretend I’m still under the influence for longer and longer periods of times when I’m not, maybe I’ll regain enough strength to get Liesel out of here.
“Don’t wiggle off,” one of the men says as he hooks his arm underneath one of my shoulders. The other man does the same to my other arm, and I’m dragged to a chair. It’s more comfortable than the floor but doesn’t make it any easier for me to escape.
What is Liesel going through?
Is she being tortured?
Beaten?
Raped?
Is she going to survive this, both physically and mentally?
Liesel Dunn is the strongest woman I know, but strength has its limits. At some point, she’ll break and won’t be able to heal.
The time ticks by slowly, so slowly I’m not sure if time even exists. My body doesn’t regain much strength as the minutes pass. I’m still as out of it as I was when I was first brought to this room.
My two guards spend their time smoking a cigar and drinking whiskey. They don’t talk or provide me any entertainment, which only makes the time tick by slower.
I hear footsteps, and my heart begs for it to be Liesel. Not because her returning to this room would make her safer, but because I’m desperate to see her.
The door opens, and the suited man steps in. It’s easy to tell he’s in charge by what he wears and how he carries himself, with complete confidence and fearlessness. My two guards act like if they put one foot out of place, they will be castrated.
