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"Kids?" My hands are trembling, and I cross my arms in front of my chest, just to realize that that’s the exact posture she just had. I quickly untangle myself again and sit down on my hands.
What is happening?
I follow Turner...Gray—whomever this man is—with my eyes. He walks over to the other door and opens it, revealing a bathroom. He grabs a plastic cup that, apparently, was already in there and fills it with water, only to place it on the floor, out of my reach.
"I’m not coming anywhere near you, princess. I already have two stab wounds, and I know what you’ve been trained to do."
My brows shoot up. How does this guy know everything about me?
He senses my unspoken question. "I’ve been watching you for her for over a decade, princess. I probably know you better than you know yourself."
I don't reply, and he snorts, shaking his head. "Drink water; it's the best way to get over your hangover."
"How—?"
But before I can finish the sentence, he is gone, and the door clicks shut, a lock snapping in place outside.
My entire body starts trembling, and a sheen of cold sweat coats my skin. I pull my knees close and wrap my arms around my legs, rocking back and forth. My eyes sting, and I let the tears go.
This can’t be real. I’m still unconscious. She cannot be here.
I'm chanting the same three sentences over and over—my lips moving but no sound coming out. With every repetition, my pulse quickens, and nausea makes my stomach churn. I swallow the saliva, but it's no use. I uncurl from my position and try to stand. My knees buckle at the first step, and I end up crawling to the bathroom on all fours. Thankfully, my captor left the light in the small room on, and I don't have to search for the toilet in the dark as the bile makes its way up. I retch several times, but since my last meal was...I don’t know when, there is nothing to throw up. Eventually, the sensation subsides, and I sit back, wiping the sweat off my forehead.
Too exhausted to pull myself up and wash my face, I crawl back to the mattress and curl into a tight ball.
"Wakey, wakey, princess."A not-at-all-cheery Gray pushes his foot into my back.
Facing away from the door, I arch away from the contact—not from pain but revulsion that this man is somehow associated with her. My eyes instantly gloss over, and I reach up, swiping at the moisture with the heel of my hand.
"Get up. She wants to talk to you. And you need to eat something. You've been out for almost thirty-six hours. Given the fact that you'll probably puke everything right back up, let's get the show on the road. I have more stops to make while I'm in this fucking country." He pushes me again with his damn boot.
Heat surges through my body the more he rants, and I whirl around, hook my elbow around his ankle, and use the little energy I can muster to kick both legs up. My feet connect with his groin region, pulling his leg out as soon as he is off-balance from pain.
Fuck you, asshole.
Gray topples over and lands ungracefully on his side. "You dirty little cunt," he yowls.
I push myself up into a sitting position and wait until his eyes meet mine before speaking. "Don’t ever touch me again."
A snort comes from the open door. When my eyes meet hers, the empty pit in my stomach opens back up.
"Why am I here?"
She ignores me and addresses the curled-up man on the floor. "Get up! I told you to give her food, not get emasculated by a teenager." She kicks the brown bag I hadn't noticed before by the door toward me. When Gray doesn't move, she barges into the room and grabs him by his black hair. "I said get the FUCK UP!" She screeches the last word into his ear, and he winces.
She is psychotic.
She's about to turn and leave when I push myself off the mattress. My legs are still weak, but I force my spine straight and my tone calm. "Why am I here?"
She lets go of his curls, and her eyes snap to mine. "Not now, Lilly."
Her dismissive tone stirs a familiar sensation in me, but instead of cowering, I do the opposite. "Yes, now, Emily!"
