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“Please,” she repeated.
She seemed to be having a panic attack. She was pale. Wild-eyed. Body trembling. Beads of sweat over her blonde eyebrows.
“Pl-please!” she cried out, pulling her wrist harder, like it’d get the cuff off.
“Stop writhing, Gianna; you’re gonna hurt yourself.”
I grabbed the key from under the mattress where I stashed it earlier. She was trembling so hard the bed was vibrating with it. Her eyes were so wild with fear, I found myself moving quickly, amped like it was urgent I free her. The second the cuff released her red wrist, she moved fast.
If this was an act, it was Oscar-worthy.
She rolled off the bed and was plastered against the wall beside the rack of clothes. And then she was looking around like she was disoriented. Hyperventilating.
“Hey?”
“Sorry.” She looked away, swiping her eyes with her fingertips, her back slowly sliding down the wall until her ass was on the rug. “Should’ve known I’d freak out. Or, I did think I might, but I tried not t-to…”
“You should have said,” I told her as gently as I could. “Come on. Get some sleep.”
She didn’t move.
I patted the bed. “C’mon.”
She slowly, timidly moved my way, sat on my bed, shrinking backwards to the headboard, cradling her knees and taking breath after breath before finally saying, “You’re acting like I’m a terrorist or something. You wouldn’t have believed me.”
“Yeah, probably. You want anything? Water? Something stronger? I can roll you some indica to help you chill and sleep.”
She shook her head.
I’d feel better about her smoking a fatty that’d knock her out. It looked like I’d have to be a light sleeper until I knew what this girl was all about. But despite knowing I had every reason to be suspicious, a weird knot was sitting in my chest like a rock. Maybe it was guilt.
I flicked the lamp back off and felt the bed move as she got back under the covers. Her knee brushed against my thigh, and she quickly moved away.
“Don’t fuck around, all right? I mean it. I won’t be happy if you pull anything. Zero bullshit whatsoever.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
Moments later, she was still breathing heavily; I listened to it until she started to breathe normally.
I was thinkin’ she’d gone to sleep, which was a surprise considering the fact she slept all day, but instead she spoke.
“I got handcuffed to a radiator sometimes so my dad could go out partying. Cheaper than a babysitter.”
I said nothing.
“Besides,” she went on, “He knocked up the babysitter and that meant she couldn’t babysit anymore.”
I stayed silent.
“Cuz they broke up, I mean. She lost the kid when she and Dad got in a fight, and she fell down the stairs. Air quotes over fell, but yeah… he used to knock her around, so that’s why I put air quotes around it.”
Fuck sakes.
“And me besides.”
My teeth went tight.
“Knocking me around, I mean.”
“Yeah, I figured,” I muttered.
She kept talking. “Never real bad. No blood or anything but a slap across the back of the head or a kick in the butt was his go-to with me.” She paused, then continued, “So anyway. I knew I wasn’t gonna be okay with the handcuffs, but I tried to not get in my head.”
She fidgeted some more, and her hair landed across my chest. I swept it off with a flick of my fingers.
A minute later she spoke again. “Guess I did get stuck in my head.”
“You wanna shut up ‘n go to sleep?” I clipped.
“Sorry, I…”
“Rhetorical.”
“I… I’m just explaining. Once he got picked up and put in the drunk tank after a bar fight, so I was stuck to that radiator for a long time. And it was winter, so it got hot, almost too hot to stand it, being so close to it, and it was really dark and it’s dark in here, too, so I think it … triggered me.”
“Don’t need your life story; I need to sleep. Gotta be up in a couple hours.”
And more a minute later. “I’m on the up ‘n up. I’d never fuck the Valentines over. They’re all good guys. Really good guys. Wish they were my family, in fact. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine with being treated like a hostage but I’m just… I’m letting you know you don’t have to worry about me doin’ anything sneaky. That’s not why I’m here. I’m not on their side. The Jackals, I mean. I’m on the side of the Doms. Your side.”
“If this is you not trying to be a pain in my ass, you’re failing.”
She went quiet again. “I babble when I’m stressed out.”
My eyes rolled. I said nothing. I waited, expecting her to keep talking, ready to ask if she’d have another panic attack if she had her mouth taped, hoping that’d finally shut her yap, but she stopped talking.
