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Shaking away the confusion, I lay my head back down, resting my forehead against Cole’s. I have no idea how long we will be left alone before they come back for us, but I know when they come back I have to find a way to convince them to let Cole go. They can do whatever they want to me, but not him.
“Is he?”
I hear the voice again, and I’m definitely not asleep. Carefully, I slide my arm out from beneath Cole’s head and push myself up off of the mattress. The cell is darker than usual and I can’t see a damn thing, so I walk with my hands in front of me until I find the wall of the cell. Feeling my way along the cold cement, I make my way around the perimeter of the cell until I finally reach the metal bars.
“Is someone there?” I ask.
That’s it Zeke, you’ve gone crazy.
“I - I heard… everything. Cole, is Cole ok?” the small, meek, feminine voice sounds closer than it did before.
“Who are you? You talked to Cole?”
“Are you Zeke?” she asks. “Cole was asking for Zeke when he first woke up.”
“I am… who are you?”
“Tell me he’s ok?”
Sighing, I don’t understand why she won’t answer my questions, “No, of course he’s not ok. He… his wounds, I think they are getting infected. They, they fucking… hurt him. I couldn’t stop it. We have to get out of here.”
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry, Zeke.”
“What?” I’m so confused. Sorry for what? What the hell could she have done to stop things? Clearly she’s just another prisoner in this fucked up place. Another pawn in this fucked up game.
When the voice doesn’t answer me, I call out to her again, “What do you mean, you’re sorry?”
Again there is nothing in response.
“Hello?”
Furrowing my brow, I wait again for a response that doesn’t come, so I turn and make my way back to the mattress, accepting that at this point I must be losing my mind. I climb back into the space next to Cole and curl up close to him. This time when I run my fingers through his hair, I notice he’s sweating. Flipping my hand over, I rest the back of my hand on his head and realize he’s burning up.
The open wounds.
An infection must be settling in, but I realize there is nothing that I can do for him here. I can’t even properly clean him up, so I definitely can’t do anything to stave off an infection. He’s so hot though, I’m too afraid to leave him sleeping.
“Cole,” I whisper, nudging his shoulder gently.
“Mmm,” he groans, but doesn’t move.
“Come on boy toy, wake up, please.”
His breathing remains slow and steady, and he barely budges. Cold sweat covers his skin everywhere and I’m genuinely scared now.
“Cole, come on, please,” a tear trails down my face, landing at my lips and I lick it away. “I need you to wake up Cole. I c… I can’t lose you Cole. I need you to be ok, so just, wake up please.”
I don’t know what’s happening to me anymore. We’ve all been through so much that the walls surrounding my heart have crumbled to dust, but I think the dust has scattered across my heart and is clogging up the valves, filling up the chambers. Now my heart is choking on the wreckage when it tries to beat. If we make it out of here alive, I’ll never be able to let Cole go. He’s a part of me now. A part of me that I never knew I needed.
Chapter thirty-eight
Riot
“Riot,” Amelia’s eyes meet mine before shifting to the rest of the crew, “Gentlemen. Hannah. This,” she motions to the tall, thin man with dark hair, deep blue eyes, and wire rimmed glasses, “is Charles Kincaid. He’s going to help us get into Grove House, the house where the Syndicate are holding Zeke and Cole captive.”
“How do we know he won’t run back to them with his tail between his fucking legs? How do we know he’s not setting us the fuck up?” I snap, burning a hole in Charles with my stare.
“Because he -”