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“So you don’t die before they’re ready for you.”
Tweedledee and Tweedledum grab me under the arms and practically drag me through the small surgical room. I struggle against their hold, but I’m too weak and they’re much bigger than me. I can’t fight them.
“Let’s go, princess,” one mocks, and the other laughs.
I’m really regretting not shooting Ian sooner now.
They haul me through a narrow corridor straight out of a horror film. Complete with busted wiring and small puddles of standing water, which they have no care to avoid. By the time they reach the end, there’s an open door, the blackness beyond looming out at me.
“Please, no,” I beg, my heart lurching in my chest when I realize their intentions. “Please don’t put me in there. Chain me to the wall out here or something.”
“Explicitorders,” the second guy says cheerfully. “This is where we were told to put you, so this is where you’re going.”
“Wait!” I screech when I’m thrust forward, stumbling into the darkness and falling to my hands and knees. I wince at the stinging cuts in my palms. The accident wasn’t kind to me and I’m sore and bruised. I might have a broken rib or two from the lance of pain in my side.
Still . . . none of that compares to the heart-stopping, all-consuming fear that takes hold of me when they start to shut the door on me.
“Sleep tight, Hannah Banana.”
And then it’s dark. The only light comes from the small crack at the bottom, but it’s not enough.
“Wait!” I screech, pounding my fist on the door, but it does nothing. No one comes to my rescue. No sounds can be heard in the hallway beyond my own personal hell.
I’m alone in the darkness.
You’ve broken the rules, so you must be punished.
“Go away,” I murmur, clenching my eyes shut and wrapping my arms around myself.
You can come out once you’ve learned your lesson. Repeat after me. We don’t tell strangers about Mommy’s work.
I fall to the ground, skittering back against the wall, sucking in shallow, painful breaths as the voices grow louder, echoing around the room.
This is it, I think, clutching a hand over my pounding heart.
There’s no one coming to save me. Not my mother. Not Missy.
Not Mason.
I’m well and truly alone.
You’re a whore.
No one will ever want you.
—I’m far scarier than anything lurking in the dark.
I slump to the floor, pressing my cheek against the cool, battered concrete. They even took his hoodie from me.
My last piece of him.
Mason’s gone now. Home’s gone, too. I guess, my consolation prize is that he won’t be hounded by the cartel anymore. At least, I hope. Maybe if I’m not in the world he’ll be able to live the peaceful life he always dreamed about. He and his family can relax. Be happy, for once.
God, I miss him.
Tears burn in my eyes, and since I’m alone, I let them fall. My brain is foggy, covered in a haze as unconsciousness threatens to pull me under. I welcome it.
All I want to do is fade away.
