Jordan’s face turns red, then purple. Sweat beads down his face. He reaches up to his neck, trying desperately to pry my hands away as he opens his mouth and tries unsuccessfully to gasp for air. I’ve wrapped his collar so tight that it’s cut off his airflow. But for good effect I tighten it even more, pulling it so tight I can see it digging into his skin.
“Jesse,” Cason warns. He knows I’m losing it. I think he’s here more to help keep me in check than anything else. To make sure I don’t go too far. And right now, watching this dude lie to my face, I’m so tempted. But for Fallon’s sake I’m going to need him alive.
I lean in close to Jordan’s ear and I growl, “If you’re fucking lying to me, if I find out you had more to do with her disappearance than you are saying, I’m coming for you. And you won’t walk away. It’ll be a lot like this moment right now, where you won’t be breathing. Only next time, I won’t let go.”
I drop him to the ground, leaving him gasping for the air I withheld from his body. I don’t bother checking to make sure he’s alright. I’m already halfway back to the Jeep before Cason catches up. His chick is leaning against the vehicle with a smirk on her face. She enjoyed seeing this part of our world; I can tell by the darkness dancing in her eyes and the want spread across her face as she watched. She stands straight as I get closer, but her eyes trail over my shoulder to the scene behind me.
“Can I get a ride?” Narni calls behind me, and I glance back just as Goose responds. He motions for her to go with them with a jerk of his head toward his truck bed. Narni looks to me with a cocked brow and asks, “We done here?”
I don’t need her anymore, so I nod. She takes off towards Goose’s truck, and when she reaches him, she slides on to the tailgate and he hands her a beer.
“Thanks for the show.” She raises her beer to us. Cason chuckles with a shake of his head and walks back to the driver’s side. I meet his eyes over the hood and the smirk instantly dissolves from his face.
I watch him. He holds my level stare, but there is something there. He’s trying to hide it from me. He’s not ready for me know yet.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” I say before I hop in. I don’t have the capacity to deal with Cason’s shenanigans right now.
I throw my head back into the headrest in frustration. I grip my hair and close my eyes while I try to breathe. I’m thankful for the dark tint on Cason’s windows. I don’t need these guys to see their leader break.
I’m back at square one. Missing my girl with nowhere to look.
“He’s lying. He knows something,” Cason says as his door shuts. I look out the window to Jordan as he remains on the ground, panting. Crank is now helping him up onto his feet. He’s rubbing his throat with one hand as Goose pats him on the back. They help him into the back of Goose’s truck and then go back to the tailgate with their beers.
“I know,” I say.
Cason turns to me, looking as lost as I feel. “So what now?”
“I don’t know.” For the first time in my life, I feel hopeless, and it’s not somewhere I want to revisit ever again. Hopeless isn’t a good place for me.
Three-hundred forty.
I stopped counting at three-hundred forty. That is how many drips I’d counted falling from the brown stain that adorns the corner of the tiled ceiling before I gave up on passing the time that way. Now I’m just lying here staring at the puddle on the floor, getting lost in the quiet. Letting the ringing in my ears overcome all other sensations. I’m not sure if Marcus left me down here to rot away or not. I’m not sure why I’m here, or what his goal is. I’ve attracted the attention of an insane man and have spent the last year of my life running from it. But I do know one thing: our ending is almost here. I can feel it. One of us isn’t getting out of this alive, and I’m ready for it to be over. I’m ready to stop running.
The lock clicks on the door as it turns, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. After a while, isolation brings on the thoughts you fight to stave off. Even your worst nightmares become sweeter than the darkest parts of the mind. His presence gives me something to focus on just long enough to keep my sanity intact. Or what is left of it, anyway.
I wasn’t sure he would come back after our last conversation, but he appears in the door reminding me of the reason I’m down here in the first place. I turn my head to watch him closely, but I don’t move to acknowledge his presence. After all, he’s only scum to me. Why would I cater to scum?
“Ah, you’re awake. Good.” He holds a white tray laden with dishes in his hands as he comes farther into the room. “I figured you’d be hungry by now. It’s been days since you’ve eaten.”
He reaches my corner and places the tray on the floor next to the cot slowly. He’s staring at me like I’m a wounded animal prepared to bite at any moment. I can tell he’s afraid I’ll lash out again. I would be too; I don’t know what I’m capable of at this point. I mean, what do I have to lose? Him? Good riddance.
I watch him closely but make no move to reach for the tray. Even if I am hungry, he doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing he is right. He shuffles his feet and clears his throat, like he’s uncomfortable in my presence. I tilt my head and continue to watch. In his eyes, I likely appear like a scared kitten, too afraid to move. He has no idea that I’m an owl perched on a nearby tree, waiting for the perfect moment. Waiting for him to slip up just once. That’s all I need—just one moment.
“Fallon, I’d like to take you out of here. I don’t like to see you so . . . confined.” The sincerity he attempts to lace into his words doesn’t seem quite right. It doesn’t fit him. His jaw is ticking away, and he’s too twitchy. The master of manipulation makes his appearance. I’m honored. It’s what made me fall for him in the first place—the mirage of being something I wanted, or at least what I thought I wanted. It’s almost perfect it, unless you’ve observed him long enough. There is always a tell when someone isn’t what they appear to be. “Can’t we just go back to being us? Like we used to be. You were happy then, weren’t you?”
He squats down next to the tray at the side of the cot. He reaches out to me, swiping a hair away from my face. My jaw tightens as soon as his finger grazes my cheek. My skin crawls the instant I feel his touch. It’s like having a million spiders scattering from that one spot.
But the silence in this room has put me in the mood to play, and I consider his questions. I mean, I’m locked in a basement and have been confined. According to him, it’s been days. I think. Maybe. I’m not sure; since I’ve been awake I’ve counted only two nights. Any shred of hope I can find in his words needs to be considered right now. But I focus on the happiness he’d mentioned, because it’s as good a time as ever to self-reflect. Was I happy then? Before Luna, before Jesse? While living in blissful ignorance, amidst all the lies?
I think maybe there were times when I was happy with Marcus. But even if I could go back to those moments, I wouldn’t want to. I know now I was weak; my judgement was skewed by innocence. When I really think back to when we were together, what I remember most is the manipulation. There were so many times when he was overbearing, controlling, or where his anger peeked out from underneath the mask. At least now I can live in my truths with no regrets. My eyes are wide open, and he would rather they be covered and bound by his dominance. Unfortunately for him, I will never be blinded by Marcus again.