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“Zayden,” I say, taking his dirty face in my hands and staring him in the eyes.
He whimpers before I’ve even said anything, predicting where this is going.
“You’re eleven, yeah?” I ask, and he nods slowly.
“Awesome, that means you’re man enough to handle all this, right?”
“I-I don’t know,” he whispers.
“Dude, you’re going to be my partner in crime, okay? The Bonnie to my Clyde. The—”
“Who?”
“Uh… the Batman to my Robin?” I ask, suddenly realising that I have no idea what almost-eleven-year-olds watch or read or… any-fucking-thing.
“O-okay.”
“And being my partner means that we never lie to each other, okay?”
He nods, his eyes filling with tears again, making my heart crack.
“I don’t know what’s going on right now,” I say honestly. “But we’re going to figure it out together, okay?”
4
EVIE
The next time I open my eyes, there’s no sunlight sneaking in through the cracks in the curtains and the room is in silence.
It takes a few seconds, but eventually my eyes adjust to the dark room enough to allow me to see that I’m alone.
My heart begins to race, and a surge of heat rushes through my body as panic sets in. I don’t want to be alone. I want… I want Alex.
Clapping my hand to my mouth, I smother the sob that wants to break free as memories slam into me.
He’s not here. Nor is Zay. Because whoever that was who stormed the house has them.
They’re… somewhere. Hopefully together, but probably alone, having fuck knows what done to them.
Those men in that concrete cell may not have touched me, but that’s only because one of them was on my side. What would have happened to me if he wasn’t there? What would have happened if I was subjected to Mr. Evil and his buddies?
My stomach turns over and I’m out of bed and clutching the toilet in the bathroom on the other side of the room in seconds.
But it’s pointless. I can’t remember the last time I ate.
Pain tears up my insides as my body tries to expel all the panic that’s taking over.
Tears fall, and I tremble from head to toe as cold sweat covers my skin.
Falling back against the warm floor does nothing as I curl up into a ball. My teeth only pause from chattering so that I can cry.
I don’t hear anyone in the bedroom or when they step into the bathroom, but I scream the second a pair of feet appears in front of me.
“Shh, Evie,” a soft, kind, and familiar voice says as a warm light illuminates the room around me.
She helps me up, and with an arm around my waist for support, she stands me in front of the basin and helps me brush my teeth and wash my face and hands.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my eyes locked on hers in the mirror.
