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Chapter 2
Pierson
My body aches. My arm hurts. My head hurts. I didn’t know I could feel so shitty, and I’m not even dead. What a waste of pills.
I pry my eyes open, and I’m greeted with darkness. Maybe I am dead. No, I shouldn’t feel a damn thing if I was. And I can feel everything.
I groan as I try to roll to my side, but something keeps me from moving my arm. I lift my head, and nausea rolls through me. I drop my head back onto the pillow and clench my eyes shut. Memories of what I witnessed assault me. My heart picks up a beat, and I feel slightly panicky before I realize I’m not there. I’m not there anymore.
I sigh and try to open my eyes, and even though I’m dizzy, I force myself to look around. The room is dark, and I have no idea where I am or how I got here. All I remember is sitting behind the club and holding a handful of pills in the palm of my hand. Of course, I wasn’t stupid enough to keep the bottle lying next to me. There was no way they would find out who the hell I was that easily.
I remember putting the pills in my mouth and swallowing them. Everything else slowly faded from there. And now here I am.
I still don’t know where here is. I blink rapidly and look at my arm. It’s being held above my head by something. That’s when the dim light filtering in through the window hits something shiny. Is that hand cuffs? My heart beats faster, and the thought of them finding me hits me hard. I’m cuffed to the bed. They found me. They had to have found me. There’s no other reason for me to be handcuffed to a bed and not dead.
I was so careful. I planned it out perfectly. No one would look in the fucking alley. No one would think to look there for me. And yet someone did. They found me, and now I’m cuffed and at their mercy.
I can feel the tears well up in my eyes before slowly running down my cheeks. They will make me pay for this. I know they will.
Just as the thought hits me, the door opens, and someone enters. I close my eyes and wish the tears weren’t staining my cheeks as a light flips on in the corner. I keep my eyes closed, pretending to be still asleep.
“How long has she been out?”
“Fuck if I know,”I hear two voices but don’t recognize either of them.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Just what I said. I don’t know.”
“How long has she been out since you found her?” One asks.
“About two hours,” the other responds.
“She should be wakin’ up then.” No. No, I can’t wake up and return to the horror I know is waiting. I don’t want to. I won’t do it. And now that they know I saw and ran, they will surely kill me after dragging it out.
“Then why isn’t she?” They want me awake to torture me, to draw this out and make it as painful as possible. A sob lodges in my throat when I feel hands on me. Don’t flinch, Pierson. Don’t flinch. I keep repeating to myself in my head. If they see me flinch, they’ll know I’m awake, and I can’t have that. Not yet. I have to figure out a way out of here first. I need a plan.
“Pulse is better,” the one says as he presses his fingers to my neck. “In fact, that motherfucker is thumpin’ pretty hard.” Shit. I can’t stop it!
“What do you mean?”
“She’s awake, brother. Fake sleepin’.”
“The fuck you mean she’s awake?” My pulse thumps harder against his fingers.
“Just what I said. She’s awake. Her heart is poundin’ against my fingers,” the man says. Keep calm, Pierson. Just keep calm.
“She’s clearly asleep,” the other argues.
“If you think so. She looks fine to me, though. Nothin’ much to worry about. She should be fine tomorrow.” His fingers leave my flesh, and I want to sigh in relief, but I can’t. Instead, I keep playing the sleeping role.
I listen as they move around the room before the door closes, and there’s nothing but silence. Then and only then do I open my eyes and turn my head. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have waited. Sitting there staring me down is a man I’ve never seen before. His lips curl into a grin as he looks at me and sits back in his seat.
“Hey, LaLa.” Who the hell is he talking to? Does he think I’m someone else? I don’t answer him and have no plans to do so. “Should have known you weren’t asleep.” Still, I say nothing as I stare into the man's dark eyes across the room.
“Not much of a talker?” he asks. “No. Seems not. That’s okay. You don’t need to talk. You just need to listen. I like you, LaLa. I wasn’t sure if I would, but I’ve decided I do. I don’t have many rules around here, except one, do not ignore me. When I talk, I like an answer even if it is a one-word answer.” I blink my eyes. I won’t answer him. I won’t tell him whatever it is he wants to know.
“I guess the first thing I’d like to know is why you were in that alley.” I won’t tell him. I won’t say the words, and he knows it. I can see it in his eyes.
