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Nothing.
I move until I’m next to Alek and also lean back against the wall.
For a long while, silence fills the room before I say, “Thank you for saying all those things about us so they wouldn’t kill me.” I turn my head and look at Alek. “And thank you for taking a beating for me.”
He lifts his bandaged hand. “Thanks for patching me up.”
“It’s the least I could do,” I whisper.
When his eyes meet mine, I ask, “Can you show me how to stay calm?”
He shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “It’s not something you can learn in an hour. It takes years.”
We continue to stare at each other, and with my emotions all over the place, I admit, “I’m scared, Alek.” Tears threaten to overwhelm me, but somehow, I manage to swallow them back.
I’m surprised when his eyes soften, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders. Not hesitating, I lean into his side, and that’s all it takes for the tears to burst free.
Chapter 9
Alek
I was worried Prodi was going to starve us to death, but luckily they finally gave us something to eat.
It’s four pieces of dry bread and one chicken breast each. It’s a far cry from Mama’s food, but it will have to do.
I finish my food before Everleigh is done with her first slice of bread.
When she catches me eyeing her food, she tears the chicken breast into strips, takes one of the strips, and pushes the rest of her food closer to me. “You need it more than me.”
I hesitate for a moment, but knowing she’s right, I take two strips of chicken and a slice of bread and wolf it down.
“Finish the rest,” I say, not wanting her to starve.
We’ve been in this room for three days, and after the first day’s torture, we’ve only been allowed out of our prison to visit the restroom. It’s usually in the morning and late at night. It’s also the only time we get to drink water.
If they’re going to feed us every three days, we’re fucked.
Another thing that worries me is that I’m getting used to having Everleigh in my space. With our dire situation and or the forced proximity, I’m starting to feel things I wouldn’t feel under normal circumstances.
Whenever she checks my wounds to put on more antiseptic lotion, I feel grateful that she’s here.
Having Everleigh take care of me feels good.
And with every passing hour, I worry more and more about her.
It doesn’t help that she’s beautiful and scared out of her fucking mind. It makes me feel more protective of her.
And she’s kind. Not once has she blamed me for the hell I got her into.
She splits the last slice of bread and leftover chicken and hands half to me.
Like I said, she’s kind.
I take the food, and this time, savor the taste of every bite.
“I miss my mother’s food,” I admit.
Everleigh is staring at her hands. “Me too.” She ducks her head lower. “She made the best pot roast.”
