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I didn’t understand why Malcom had kidnapped me from outside the gas station and brought me here. He hadn’t spoken a single word to me other than to tell me what to do.

Zag shifted next to me and sat on his butt. “How long have you been here?”

“The sun has set eleven t-t-times.”

Zag grunted. “Fucking shit, babe. Have you been here for twelve days? Isn’t there someone looking for you?”

I wish there were, but there weren’t. Mom was gone, and my dad had died years ago.

Kit would be missing me, but only because his food bowl would be running empty. It wasn’t like my cat would be able to alert the police I was missing.

I shook my head no and leaned back into the wall.

“Sugar?” he called. He blindly reached out and placed his hand on my knee.

He couldn’t see me shake my head. Duh, Tess. “N-n-no.” I moved back from him and scooted further down the wall.

“No friends, family, or boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

How nice of him to be inclusive, but I didn’t have any of those. “No.”

“Well, I can’t say the same, thankfully. Hopefully, King and the club are moving heaven and hell to find me.” Zag sighed heavily.

That was nice for him. I wouldn’t know what it would feel like to have a family and friends who would do anything to find you.

Zag shifted next to me and got on his knees. “There has to be a way out of here,” he muttered. “He can’t be watching us all of the time. He’s a fucking coward for not even coming down here. Who kidnaps someone and doesn’t even show their face,” he mused.

He moved slowly around the basement until he was back next to me. “You don’t talk much, do you, babe?”

I grunted softly. That was a yes.

“Well, you’re gonna find out I talk a lot. Zig always tells me I always need to fill the silence. I just think I have something to say, so I’m going to say it.” He flopped back next to me and sighed heavily. “My fucking head hurts.”

He could talk all he wanted, and there wasn’t anything I could do to help him with his headache. “I-I-I’m sorry.”

He chuckled low. “Nothing to apologize for, babe. You’re right in the shit with me. I need to figure out how to get out of here, but right now, I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“C-c-con-c-c­–”

“Concussion,” he softly interrupted. “I think you are right.”

Most times, when someone cut me off to say the word I was struggling with, it would either embarrass or infuriate me. I was too dumb to talk, which made me mad at myself.

I didn’t have that feeling when Zag helped me. Most times, I can hear the distain and disgust in people’s voices when they correct me.

Not with Zag.

But that might have just been a fluke. He was exhausted and suffering from a head injury.

“I think I’m going to take a nap, Tess.”

That was probably the last thing he should do, but it wasn’t like I could keep him awake.

“O-o-okay,” I stammered. I couldn’t even say one word without stuttering like an idiot. I wished that my mom had been right in that instant, and I was faking my stutter.

I wasn’t.

There had been a few select times in my life that I would have done anything to have just one conversation without stuttering.

Just one time, but it never happened.

“We’re gonna be okay, Tess,” he whispered to me in the dark basement. “I’ll make sure of it,” he promised.

He didn’t know that.

Three days ago, I had come to terms with the fact that I was going to die in this basement. Then Zag was tossed in here with me.

That had only changed the fact that I wasn’t going to die completely alone.

Now it would be with a stranger who talked constantly and was concussed.

Plot twist, but my story was going to end the same way.

Dead.

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