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31
River
In the morning,I wake up feeling like shit. It’s that hungover feeling that comes with doing too much of something too fast, but it wasn’t booze for once. I’m hungover on pain, on grief. Feeling too much and not being prepared for it.
I haven’t gone to that place since right after I was released from captivity, when I was living with my dad—the man who was responsible for me being locked up in the first damn place, since they were torturing me and Hannah to punish him.
That year was fucking hard.
It was like being in a dark hole, and I barely found my way out of it.
I hate going to that place, and usually try to avoid it if I can, but the memory of my sister and all that happened was just too much last night. It all hit me at once, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
“Okay,” I mutter under my breath, my face still half mashed into the pillow. “Get up.”
My body doesn’t want to listen. My limbs feel heavy and tired, and my head throbs the way it always does after a long, heavy cry. My mouth is dry, and the light hurts my eyes. It would be so much easier to just pull the blankets over my head and stay here all day, but I’m not going to do that.
That would be giving in, and if it’s one thing I never fucking do, it’s give in.
So I force myself up, throwing back the covers all at once and swinging my legs out before I have a chance to change my mind and lie back down.
Moving helps a little, and I go over to the window that’s letting in all the morning light and crack it open. My head’s a mess, so I get my nail kit and my cigarettes and perch naked on the window sill, smoking idly while I take off yesterday’s polish.
It doesn’t fit anymore.
Today, I go for a deep red. The color of blood. It reminds me of who I am now. What I’m aiming for. I’m not that scared little girl, huddled in a corner. Or the scared little girl trying to keep the heat on me instead of Hannah.
I’m a motherfucking adult on a mission, and there’s only one more name on my list.
I’ll see Ivan steeped in his own blood one way or another. I’ll make it happen or I’ll die trying. That’s who I am, and that’s all that matters.
I can hear the guys moving, going up and down the stairs, doing whatever it is they do as part of their morning routines. They don’t bother me, and I don’t leave my room for a long time.
When my nails are dry and my cigarette is gone, I just keep sitting by the window, soaking up the quiet. I think about what Priest said last night about being broken. I think about his hand in mine and how I’d probably still be sitting on the floor of the shower if it wasn’t for him.
Out of all the guys, I didn’t expect to find a connection with him.
Well. I didn’t expect to connect with any of them, but especially not Priest. I didn’t even think it was possible for him to connect withanyone.
My thoughts are interrupted after a while by the sound of whining and scratching at the door.
Jesus. That fucking dog.
I try ignoring him, but he doesn’t go away, batting at the door and whining pitifully for attention. I pick up a shoe from the floor and throw it at the door. It hits with a loud bang that reverberates through the wood.
“Fuck off,” I snarl, but it’s halfhearted at best. I don’t have the energy to be that pissed at him for just wanting attention.
I get up and crack open the door. He’s still there, standing right outside. As soon as he sees me, the pitiful look on his face shifts to the dog version of a grin, and his tail starts wagging a mile a minute.
In spite of my rough mood, I can’t help but laugh. Nothing puts this mutt off for long. I can curse him out and throw things in his direction, and he’s still always eager and happy to see me.
“Fine,” I mutter. “Let me get fucking dressed first, you needy animal.”
Like he can understand me, Dog drops into a sit, his tail thumping against the carpet in the hall.
I roll my eyes and close the door, throwing on some comfortable clothes quickly.
Of course, he’s still out there when I come back, and as soon as I step out of the room, he’s up on his feet, following after me as we head downstairs. It’s been a while since breakfast, and he’s probably hungry, so I go for his bowl and the dog food, filling it up and putting the bowl back down so Dog can gobble it up with his usual eagerness.
