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She thought about it for a few minutes, and then laughed bitterly. "That might be true, at least in your head," she slammed her fist into my chest for emphasis, "but that doesn’t make it right. You brought me here. You took me from my life."
Sam hadn’t buzzed us, which meant he was probably busy. That wouldn’t last long. We only had a few seconds. I grabbed her wrists, keeping her from hitting me anymore.
"I understand, Dahlia. I do. There are bigger problems here. We can deal with all that later. I’ve lost control. My partner cut me out. I am, quite literally, exactly like you all right now. All we need to worry about is finding a way to get out of this place." I took her hand in mine and was happy she didn’t pull away. "Together."
Dahlia almost smiled. The muscles in her face twitched like she might, but she stopped herself. Instead, she shook her head and looked at me with a sad expression before gently pulling her hand from mine. "I need time, Drake. I need time to trust you. No matter what you say, everything between us has been a lie."
"No," I hissed desperately. "Not everything."
"Maybe, but like I said. I need to figure things out in my own head."
With that, she turned and walked away. A tight knot of pain squeezed my chest. Heartache. For the first time in my life.
Chapter 23
DAHLIA
This was hell, or maybe purgatory. The last two days Sam hadn’t changed or done anything strange. The same exact daily tasks with nothing to break up the monotony. That almost made me descend into madness. As bad as it had been when he’d acted weird and continued to pick on me, at least that had shown I’d gotten under his skin. All his retribution toward me made me think he was human and fallible and able to be defeated. Going back to the same old thing sent me spiraling into depression.
Between that and what had happened between Drake and me, there was almost no room for hope. The one person who I’d been leaning on and caring for, was not who I thought he was. My brain ached thinking about it. Like two monsters fighting for different desires inside my skull. Part of me was desperate to trust him again, but the other was terrified of him. He was both a monster and the man I’d been falling in love with. How the fuck did I make those two things mesh?
The two others knew something was weird between us, but even Bri left it alone. Still, I kept the secret. If Payton and Bri knew Drake was one of the people who’d brought us here, they’d try to kill him. Even Payton, who was far too gentle. I couldn’t bear the thought of Drake being dead, even though, for a while, I’d imagined shoving a knife into his chest myself. When those intrusive thoughts burst into my brain, it always left me hurt and broken. Ashamed. As I walked toward the torture room for my afternoon task, I continued warring with those thoughts.
For Drake’s part, he’d taken things easy with me. He hadn't pushed me to forgive or forget. If anything, he acted like he wanted me to express my feelings of betrayal and confusion toward him during the times we were alone together. Now that I’d been brought into his secret, I could see that he was a therapist. It was obvious now that it was out in the open. Our chances to talk were limited. Sam knew how close we were and we’d had very few moments alone together the last few days, mostly when it appeared Sam was busy watching or directing one of the other housemates.
During one of the moments we’d had together, he’d let me know that he had a hidden key. He’d placed it in the house in case of emergency. A key that would remove the devices from our wrists. That information alone had caused me to slap him. Sharp aching pain had exploded through my fingertips, and bright red welts sprang to his cheek as soon as I’d done it. Instead of wincing in pain, he’d simply nodded as though he deserved it, agreeing with my outburst.
"I know you’re mad, Dahlia. If we’d swapped places, I probably would be too. That doesn’t change things," he’d said.
"You could have taken these damned things off any time you wanted," I hissed.
"If that was part of the plan, then yes. That’s accurate. You have to look beyond the past. If we want to survive, the only way to do that is to look forward."
Even when he said the words, my mind warred with itself. Yes, we needed to worry about surviving. No, I couldn’t forget what he’d done. It wasn’t that simple.
I’d glanced around as though Sam were standing right around the corner, and then hissed, "Why haven’t you gotten this stupid key yet then?"
"Because it’s one of the few things I ever kept hidden from my partner. He has no clue where it is, though I’m sure he suspects. He had his own hidden key, but that was in the secret office we used in my room. I told you, we would trade out who was in here and who played Sam. It’s upstairs, and I’m pretty sure he knows that. Twice I’ve tried to go get it and Sam has shocked me until I was unconscious both times."
"Well, wait until you think he isn’t watching. Seems simple to me," I’d said.
He’d lifted his device. "These things have trackers in them. I think he’s set it to alert him if I try to go upstairs. Even if he’s watching Bri or Payton or you, he’ll get an alarm telling him I’m going somewhere he doesn’t want me to go."
"Well," I’d smirked, "looks like you two had everything figured out, didn’t you?"
I’d stomped away, leaving him in the hall, too angry to talk to him anymore. That had been the day before. During breakfast the next day, Drake hadn’t bothered talking to me. He’d remained silent, and I’d let him. It hurt, but there was nothing to be done. Especially not around the others.
Entering the viewing room, the window was dark as it sometimes was. For now, thoughts of Drake and escape vanished. I had to worry about what Sam wanted me to do in here. It didn’t take long until I found out.
Bong. "Glad you could join us, Dahlia. I do sometimes get very tired of only punishing those who deserve it. As you saw with your friend Clint, it can be quite the exciting change of pace."
I clamped my teeth down on the inside of my cheek. I remembered what he’d made me do to poor Clint. Even though it had all been in darkness, there was no way I could forget something so awful. Fear flared in my chest. Who was he going to make me hurt now? Maria? Miguel the cook? There weren’t many good people in my life.
The lights clicked on, and the torture room came into view. I almost laughed at what I saw. Naked and tied to a table, gigantic fake tits heaving as she gasped for breath. Claudia. One of the other servers from the restaurant. There was no love lost between the two of us. Had Sam made a mistake? Had he assumed we were friends just because we worked together? If he’d read the pages of my diary he’d stolen, then surely he’d have seen a few excerpts where I’d bitched about her.
"Proceed inside please, Dahlia," Sam said.
Still unsure of what was going on, I did as he asked. The last thing I wanted was to be shocked again. When I stepped into the room, the door shutting and latching behind me, Claudia lifted her head and locked her eyes on mine. The look of surprise on her face was comical.
