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“Do you know about the cell?”
“I do, and I know you agreed to things under false pretenses, and believe you me, he heard my thoughts about that, too!”
“It won’t be good for me to stay here. He’s already hurt me. He hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you, honey. The situation is just...complicated. He’s as confused as you are, and I know he’s done some things that haven’t been fair to you. You may have heard me yelling at him for those things this morning.”
I hadn’t heard anything. Nothing but music and the echo of an overly loud food mixer.
“Let me share some advice. Allow a man one mistake. They are stupid creatures, after all. If he learns from it, he’ll be better. If not, cut your losses.”
Surely, she knew I had no losses. No choice in anything that happened here.
“He’s in a dark place, and I know he’s dragged you into it, but you can walk out together or separately. Well, you’ll have to wheel out, but you still get to pick your direction.”
She was making it sound as if I had a choice. Or a wheelchair—I had neither. I would just have to continue to be dragged by Mercer and tossed away when he grew bored, and eventually, he would grow bored. He had hinted at that so many times.
I finished my freshly squeezed orange juice, the juicy bits still on my tongue when I devoured the second cannoli. I wiped the crumbs from my lips before thanking Beatrix and saying no more about my situation.
She took the hint, understanding that I wasn’t in the mood for company, and she collected my tray, hobbling away. At my door, she turned back and said, “It was nice to meet you, Feebee. Remember what I told you. And don’t take no shit from that boy while I’m gone.”
I wasn’t hungry that evening, and I didn't get any food with Beatrix out of the house. But I got bored. Bored of watching the clock arrows move and listening to the annoying ticktock they traveled with.
I hated that fucking sound.
After a full twelve hours, my naked body dropped from the bed with a thud. Darkness was outside again, welcoming creatures of the night. Barn owls and their prey made sounds beyond my window. Some were pretty melodies, others, screams of terror.
That was why I threw myself from the bed, needing something else to listen to, and a TV remote taunted me in the distance, promising the music channels would be much better if I just retrieved it.
The soft carpet cushioned the fall as I landed awkwardly on my wrist. I dragged myself a mere inch when the door swung wide, hitting that same part of the wall, the pink paint chipping again.
“What the fuck are you doing?” the robotic voice I hoped to forget barreled loudly through my room and made me twitch in my skin, my soul trying to escape because my body couldn’t.
I didn’t look for the speaker.
“Mind your own fucking business,” I spat, taking Trix’s advice, lacing my tone in venom, and refusing to take his shit. I glared at the doorway; my eyes filled with anger. I was close to hissing at him.
He stepped inside my room, tainting the bright colors with his dark aura.
“I hate you,” I lied.
He didn’t care, looking neither amused nor displeased.
I turned away, carpet fibers parting beneath me as I heaved my naked body to the other side of the room to a giant TV and its remote, desperate to drown out the sound of wildlife murders outside.
But I never got there.
Mercer’s legs brought him quickly toward me, which brought envy rushing up my throat. If only my legs worked, I could kick, I could run.
Cruel fingers grabbed my ankle, tugging me back. My hand was up, ready to slap him in his face, but it just made it easier for him to grip my pained wrist and swing me onto the bed. I bounced, almost falling off the other side. I stared at the remote, promising myself I would get it once he left, the pain in my joint already forgotten.
“Is that what you want?” the voice questioned.
He walked toward it in ten simple steps. Don’t ask me why I counted them, but I did. In my defense, I had nothing else to do, that is, until I was shielding myself from the hard black plastic that would have broken my nose if I had raised my arms a second later.
The lack of a fractured bone allowed steam to burst from my nostrils. I glared at him, praying looks could kill, then praying they couldn’t.
Damn this fucking man.
