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My spine stiffens, and I grimace. My head pounds, and I swallow the bile inching its way up my throat as I vigorously shake my head.
“I c-c-can’t… I d-d-don’t know,” I stammer.
Grim scowls. “You can’t, or you don’t know?”
“I don’t know.” Rather than a confident statement, my response comes out more like a question.
Abyss arches a brow but says nothing.
“I’m gonna go, but I’ll be back to check on you later.” Abyss points to a device by my arm. “That’s a morphine drip. If you start to feel pain in between the doses I administer, you can push that button, and you’ll get a small dose until your next full one.”
“Thank you for all your help,” I tell him.
“No problem, darlin’.” He steps away from the bed and walks toward the door, which slides open, allowing him to leave the room.
Alone with Grim, butterflies start flitting about in my stomach. Between my nerves, my injuries, and ridiculous attraction to the man, I’m a wreck.
“Who did this to you?” Grim asks again.
“I told you, I don’t know.” I shiver, and Grim grabs another blanket.
“I think you’re lying,” Grim insists after covering me up. “Tell me.”
“How long have I been here?” I counter, hoping he’ll latch on to the change in subject.
“Over twenty-four hours.”
That’s too long!
How do I explain my absence? My poor parents must be worried sick. I need to let them know I'm okay. They have no idea how far Brad will go to keep me.
My phone! I’ll text them to let them know I’m okay, that I’ll be home soon.
“I need my phone. I have people who will be worried about me. Do you know where it is?”
“Yeah.” Grim reaches behind his back and pulls out a cell phone. “Here you go.”
He pulls a cell out of his pocket and hands it to me.
“This isn’t mine.”
I try to hand it back to him, but he doesn’t take it.
“Your phone’s broken. Fort tried to fix it, but he couldn’t.”
Fort? What is with the names around here?
Grim takes another cell from his pocket and starts texting. As soon as he’s done, the phone in my hand pings.
Grim: I had him set up a new phone for you with all your old contacts. It’s the same number & all your apps & messages were retrieved. We can text until you’re a little more healed
Grateful to have a phone in my hand, I scroll through and notice that not one person has messaged me about my absence. This time, I don’t fight back the tears. A group of strangers have come to my aid and helped me without question or without wanting something in return, but not one person who claims to love me has even noticed I’m missing.
Who did this to you?
Grim’s question plays on repeat in my mind, but I know I can’t risk telling him who the guilty party is until I know my parents are okay.
He gently wipes the salty wetness off my face. I peek through my eyelashes and see his ice-blue eyes blazing. With what, I’m not sure, but they are hypnotic.
