Page 242 of Fragments

Lex lunges for his device, but the Warden barks, “Don’t fucking move.”

The guards pull their weapons, each aiming a gun at our faces.

Like a reflex, I reach for Lex’s hand, lacing his trembling fingers in mine.

The Warden tilts his head at us, in that curious animal way. He’s a goddamn snake, seconds from lunging to sink his fangs in, and I don’t know how to stop it.

I need to protect Lex. Protect him at all costs.

He’s all that matters.

The Warden’s head does a subtle bob. “Get them out of here.”

The guards storm into the cell, hauling us to our feet. I’m shaking so hard I can barely breathe, millions of thoughts swarming my brain at once, making me dizzy. My hand squeezes onto Lex’s as tightly as possible while they try to pull us apart.

Lex has never looked more terrified, eyes wide, lips quivering with fear. The guards forcefully yank us, severing our connection. But I keep my gaze with him.

I tap my finger on my chest right above my heart, over the fireworks I inked on my skin for him. He notices what I’m doing, and I only hope he can hear my wordless message.

Meet me at the fireworks, baby. That’s how I’ll find you.

The guards cuff our wrists aggressively, and I’m just able to whisper, “I love you,” before a bag is shoved down over my head.

Even without sight, the vision of my true love in tears haunts my mind.

Shuffling noises and grievous grunts echo.

“I’ll find you, baby!” Lex shouts, his shuddering voice growing further away. “Don’t fucking hurt him!”

“Lexington!” I cry, stumbling forward.

Something comes down in a hardthwackagainst my skull.

And it all goes dark.

Pain…

My eyes flutter open, but my vision is so blurry I can’t see. Even if I could, though, it’s so dark in this room. Pitch black…

Where the fuck am I?

My skull throbs, temples pounding a persistent ache. Lifting my hand to my head, I feel a sticky wetness in my hair I just know is blood.

The more I come to, the more I can feel that I’m lying on a bed, a stiff mattress basically the same cot-style as our bunk beds. When I shift, the metal creaks. And when I move my legs, I feel that one of my ankles is being held down… It’s shackled. Loose enough that I can sit up, but I definitely can’t stand.

Blinking over and over, I struggle to get my eyes to adjust, squeezing over the fog until I realize I’m in solitary. It’s a cell I’ve never been in, though, because there’s actually a cot in here. Still, the rest of it is familiar. Dark as fuck, not even any real light streaming in through the tiny window. There’s a bit of a glow, but it looks like the lights are off in the hall.

“Power’s out,” the familiar voice rumbles, and my spine stiffens.

Fuck my life. He’s still here.

“Tell your goon thanks for the concussion,” I croak, rubbing my skull. “Fingers crossed for short-term memory loss.”

The Warden hums, and I sit up straight, trying to pin down where he is in the room. I know it’s probably not wise to be popping off smartass remarks, but it’s my defense mechanism. Especially when I’m sure there’s nothing I can do physically to get myself out of the heaping pile of shit I’m currently existing in.

“Warren, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye…” He shifts, and suddenly I can see him. His glowing halo of white hair is visible from across the room. “What with you burning down my business and all…”

“Don’t forget all the hours you logged having your team of psychopaths poke me with hot needles and cook my brains out.” I sit up straight.