shove the door open. The chilled air
sobers me and the tingly feeling in my fingertips and toes lessens.
I scan side to side and spot a ladder extending up and over the
edge of the roof. My shoes click loudly as I break into a run. For
a fleeting moment, I believe I have escaped and it is exhilarating.
The liquid fire in my belly burns through my veins, charging me
with energy. I increase my speed.
I’ve never actually allowed myself to
imagine something like this. It’s too far-fetched, too impossible.
And too dangerous. If I’m caught trying to leave, I will be
terminated for sure. If I succeed in escaping, I have nowhere to go
and will probably succumb to the elements or starvation anyway. My
plan is crazy, ridiculous. Forbidden. But I don’t stop. I would
much rather die on my own terms than according to the plans of
someone like Titus Rogen.
I am two steps from the edge when a
hand closes over my wrist and wrenches me sideways.
I scream and then my head hits the
brick wall and I am abruptly silent. The pain is instant and
overwhelming and I cannot see past the blackness that closes in
like a widening funnel around my pupils. My knees buckle and the
hand on my wrist is not enough to keep me upright. As I slide to
the ground, the hand releases me. I hear a grunt and am not sure
whether it belongs to me or my assailant.
Someone yells. A door slams. Feet
pound against concrete, the sound coming closer and closer until I
feel someone standing directly over me. I blink but I can no longer
see anything around the blackness.
I hear another grunt—this time I know
it’s not mine—and then the sound of someone gagging. It makes my
stomach roil and I wonder if I’m capable of vomiting since it would
require moving. I cannot make a single muscle work.
A blur of movement enters my sight
line. I blink furiously and through the darkness I see faces.
Blurred, angry, contorted. Bleeding.
Then everything goes black.
Chapter Five
When I wake, I am shivering. I blink,
each meeting of my eyelids sending a shooting pain through my
skull. Fabric rustles as someone leans in and drapes my coat over
my shoulders. A familiar face blurs into focus and I relax at the
sight of the hard jaw, the forehead creased with worry.
“ Linc,” I say, putting all
of my relief into that one word so that it comes out on a cry. I
don’t remember much but the little that replays in my mind is full
of terror and the certainty that whoever attacked me meant to kill.
I whip my head side to side, trying to locate the danger my brain
insists still lurks.
“ It’s all right,” Linc
says, scooting closer and putting an arm around me. I go still
under his touch. “He won’t hurt you ever again.” He pulls me into
his chest and rubs my arms and for a moment, I allow myself to
forget about how close I came to dying or how furious Titus will
be. Instead, I enjoy the feel of Linc’s arms around me and the
knowledge that he protected me. I am safe.
“ That’s better. You’ve
stopped shaking,” he says a few moments later. I don’t realize
until he’s released me that the only reason he held me was for
warmth. I bite back my disappointment because there is no room for
affection in this life.
“ What
happened?”
“ I saved your ass, that’s
what happened,” he says, and instantly his concern melts into a
heated glare. Accusing. And I remember the last thing he said to me
before my failed escape attempt. “You have absolutely no concept of
self-preservation, do you?”
Exhaustion threatens, partly from the
alcohol having receded and partly because I realize now how
ill-begotten my plan was. “I wasn’t trying to get killed,” I say
wearily.
“ Then what the hell were
you doing going off alone? You had to know how dangerous it
was.”
Images assault me, broken, jagged,
misshapen through my confused memory of what happened after I hit
my head. I am fairly certain I remember Linc with his hands wrapped
around my
sobers me and the tingly feeling in my fingertips and toes lessens.
I scan side to side and spot a ladder extending up and over the
edge of the roof. My shoes click loudly as I break into a run. For
a fleeting moment, I believe I have escaped and it is exhilarating.
The liquid fire in my belly burns through my veins, charging me
with energy. I increase my speed.
I’ve never actually allowed myself to
imagine something like this. It’s too far-fetched, too impossible.
And too dangerous. If I’m caught trying to leave, I will be
terminated for sure. If I succeed in escaping, I have nowhere to go
and will probably succumb to the elements or starvation anyway. My
plan is crazy, ridiculous. Forbidden. But I don’t stop. I would
much rather die on my own terms than according to the plans of
someone like Titus Rogen.
I am two steps from the edge when a
hand closes over my wrist and wrenches me sideways.
I scream and then my head hits the
brick wall and I am abruptly silent. The pain is instant and
overwhelming and I cannot see past the blackness that closes in
like a widening funnel around my pupils. My knees buckle and the
hand on my wrist is not enough to keep me upright. As I slide to
the ground, the hand releases me. I hear a grunt and am not sure
whether it belongs to me or my assailant.
Someone yells. A door slams. Feet
pound against concrete, the sound coming closer and closer until I
feel someone standing directly over me. I blink but I can no longer
see anything around the blackness.
I hear another grunt—this time I know
it’s not mine—and then the sound of someone gagging. It makes my
stomach roil and I wonder if I’m capable of vomiting since it would
require moving. I cannot make a single muscle work.
A blur of movement enters my sight
line. I blink furiously and through the darkness I see faces.
Blurred, angry, contorted. Bleeding.
Then everything goes black.
Chapter Five
When I wake, I am shivering. I blink,
each meeting of my eyelids sending a shooting pain through my
skull. Fabric rustles as someone leans in and drapes my coat over
my shoulders. A familiar face blurs into focus and I relax at the
sight of the hard jaw, the forehead creased with worry.
“ Linc,” I say, putting all
of my relief into that one word so that it comes out on a cry. I
don’t remember much but the little that replays in my mind is full
of terror and the certainty that whoever attacked me meant to kill.
I whip my head side to side, trying to locate the danger my brain
insists still lurks.
“ It’s all right,” Linc
says, scooting closer and putting an arm around me. I go still
under his touch. “He won’t hurt you ever again.” He pulls me into
his chest and rubs my arms and for a moment, I allow myself to
forget about how close I came to dying or how furious Titus will
be. Instead, I enjoy the feel of Linc’s arms around me and the
knowledge that he protected me. I am safe.
“ That’s better. You’ve
stopped shaking,” he says a few moments later. I don’t realize
until he’s released me that the only reason he held me was for
warmth. I bite back my disappointment because there is no room for
affection in this life.
“ What
happened?”
“ I saved your ass, that’s
what happened,” he says, and instantly his concern melts into a
heated glare. Accusing. And I remember the last thing he said to me
before my failed escape attempt. “You have absolutely no concept of
self-preservation, do you?”
Exhaustion threatens, partly from the
alcohol having receded and partly because I realize now how
ill-begotten my plan was. “I wasn’t trying to get killed,” I say
wearily.
“ Then what the hell were
you doing going off alone? You had to know how dangerous it
was.”
Images assault me, broken, jagged,
misshapen through my confused memory of what happened after I hit
my head. I am fairly certain I remember Linc with his hands wrapped
around my
Similar Books
