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Mitch pulled her up by her hair, and she screamed. Her legs weren’t working, and as she couldn’t move fast enough, he started to pull her by her hair.
The pain was excruciating, and tears poured down her face.
She heard his cell phone ring. He released a curse and then kicked her in the stomach, forcing her to curl in on herself, trying to stop the pain that he was inflicting.
“Hello,” he said. He stepped away from her, just a few feet, his attention on the call he was taking.
She stared across the room, and she frowned as one of the doors across from her was open. It looked like a cafeteria with the trays of food.
One by one, she watched as two people walked around, and from a little syringe, they were dropping some liquid into the bowls of food.
Skye didn’t lift her head, and when they glanced over at her, she had her eyes closed as if she couldn’t handle the pain, holding herself.
“This will keep them weak,” the man said.
“The doctor said we’re going to have to start upping the dose if they show it’s wearing off,” another said.
“Well, let’s keep an eye on them while we dish out this food. I don’t want any of them thinking they can go crazy on us.”
Mitch grabbed her hand, pulling her down the corridor, to her own doom.
They were drugging the food?
Noah?
Was that why he couldn’t fight back? He didn’t have any strength because they were keeping them weak.
How could they be sure that they’d eat the right food?
More often than not, the trays of food were placed in front of them. They didn’t argue and ate their food. Could it be that?
Noah was a big guy.
Mitch tossed her in the shower, and she didn’t have time to think about anything else as she had to concentrate on surviving.
****
Every single time Skye was taken from him, Noah felt like a fucking jerk. Mitch knew what he was doing, but he wouldn’t let that bastard tear them apart. They were stronger than Mitch gave them credit for. They would survive this.
He gripped the back of his head, trying with all of his might to shake off this haze that kept on clouding his ability to do anything.
Today, with Mitch holding her, he’d wanted to hurt that bastard, to wipe that smug smile off his face and to see his face crushed between his foot. Noah knew how strong he was. He also knew what made him a better man was knowing when not to use his strength for his own personal gain.
He only ever defended himself in fights, never started them. Whenever he was on the field, he always made sure to take care when he was close to other players, even those on the opposite team.
He was a big guy, one of the tallest in the whole of his year, but he’d always been tall, bigger, muscular, just like his father.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed as he couldn’t handle walking up and down another moment longer. He was so tired, so incredibly tired.
Running a hand down his face, he watched as the door opened and in walked two people carrying food. They didn’t say or do anything. One tray of food was left on the floor, and another was brought to him, much in the same way it always was, only the tray of food on the floor was normally for Skye.
He took the food, wanting nothing more than to bash the guy’s head in with the metal tray.
Was that why they used the metal trays? Was it to taunt them, to prove to them they could do nothing?
He stared at Skye’s food, and rather than start his own, he waited. Putting the tray beside him on the bed, he rested his elbows on his knees and tried to count.
One, two, three, four, five, six.
