Page 22

Four days pass without a word from Daniel.

No note, not even a sign. I peek into his room every chance I get, and the panic mounts as the days wear on.

I try to maintain a positive facade in public, but it gets harder the more obvious it becomes that something’s wrong.

I’m haunted by the impulse to act, to search for him, to call for help—anything—but I have no idea what to do.

His warnings are always lingering in my head. If I act, I’ll only make things worse.

Clausen has completely infiltrated my life as well. Anna never returned as my counselor and each session has been getting harder and harder to fake. I sense today’s will be brutal as the gnawing fear chips at my slipping public mask.

“So, are you officially my new counselor?” I ask, dropping to the chair.

“Yes. Unfortunately, Anna was overbooked so I stepped in to relieve some of her load.”

“And by that, you mean me.”

“Some of our students go months without direct contact from me.”

“Oh, I’m supposed to be honored then,” I say dryly. “Look, I know why you’re here and what you’re waiting for. We’ve already been over it. Why can’t I just tell you when I’ve made up my mind? I’m sure you’re too busy to have the same conversation over and over again.”

“I’d like to understand your hesitation, Rebecca. If one of your classmates had a gift that could help you, wouldn’t you want them to use it?”

“I would. I’m just not convinced my gift will help Daniel.”

“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. So how do we overcome this lack of trust in yourself?”

“I don’t know. Maybe through time.”

“Well, I wish we could wait for your confidence, but I’m afraid there’s an urgency to his situation that you’re not understanding.”

I flinch at the blow. After a second, I manage to pull in a breath to regain my composure. “Where is he?” I ask, ready for the fight. “How can I help if I never know where he is?”

Clausen remains silent, gaze boring into me. “I believe I can find him if you agree to help.”

My blood runs cold. Maybe Daniel wouldn’t want me to give in, but what choice do I have? “What do you want me to do?”

I strain through a sleepless night, listening for any sign of Daniel’s return. Hour after hour I wait, cursing Clausen for his deception. After all the drama, the threats, he can’t possibly go back on our agreement. What good is an extorted promise without the reward?

I’ve almost given up when the creak of our suite door slices through the oppressive silence. Bolting from my bed, I run to the common area and freeze.

No!

I grip a chair and catch my breath against the rising emotion as several men carry their victim to his room. They ignore me, and I wait until they leave to advance.

Light from the common area makes the space even darker, and I fumble for the lamp. The sudden glow reveals Daniel strewn on the bed, unconscious.

“Shit!”

I rush to his side and do my best to adjust him to a more comfortable position.

Panic mounts at the lack of visions when I touch his face and watch his chest rise and fall with shallow breaths.

My heart pounds as I absorb every jolt of evidence explaining his recent absence.

They must be desperate for whatever it is they want.

Desperate and impatient. Did they finally succeed in breaking him, or only push him to the brink of intolerance?

I shudder at the thought that they stopped because they had to, not because they wanted to.

A disturbing pattern of bandages lines his chest and fuels my anger. The calculated nature of the wounds suggests this interrogation was more systematic than the encounters in my visions. He must not be being entirely honest with me. He certainly didn’t tell me the truth about that room.

“Daniel,” I whisper, patting his cheek. “Hey, can you hear me?” I take his hand when he still doesn’t stir and trace the horrible red marks circling his wrists.

Shivering, the ache of tears climbs in my chest again.

I blink them away and grip his hand tighter, hoping for some evidence of consciousness.

Still nothing, and my gaze scans his graphic tattoos while I wait.

So many images to hide—what, exactly? Manipulation? Lies? Sadistic games he can never win.

I grasp his fingers and lean my head on the mattress.

How much of this is my fault? How much could I have stopped? Prevented? My brain catalogs detail after detail of evidence I don’t want to see anymore. I close my eyes and breathe in the darkness until it clears my head.

At some point, I must drift off because I’m startled awake by shadows transforming into murky visions. I snap to attention and touch his face. “Daniel?”

He stirs, but all I get is a blank stare when he finally opens his eyes.

“Daniel, it’s Rebecca.”

He looks right past me. No, he’s not looking, he’s... Is it the drugs or something more insidious that’s keeping him from me? His eyelids flutter, and I realize I’m losing him again.

“No, wake up!” I tap his cheek. “Wake up!”

I get another flash but can’t interpret the cloudy scene. His breathing intensifies and his face contorts into a grimace. He gasps, and I jump back.

I approach again when his eyes settle on me. “Can you hear me?”

“Rebecca,” he mumbles.

“I’m here!” I drop beside him but he hides his hand when I reach for it. “I was so worried about you.”

He closes his eyes again, but I suspect it’s only weakness this time.

“I’ll get you a drink.”

He shakes his head. “A garbage can!”

I grab the closest one, and he vomits into it, coughing violently. My heart breaks as I retrieve towels and water from the bathroom. After he finishes, he drinks deeply from the cup and wipes the towel over his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, falling back to the bed.

Emotion builds in my throat. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one who was wrong. I should have looked for you.”

His jaw tightens. “You were right not to. You wouldn’t have been able to get to me. You know that.”

“Maybe, but I should have done something. Called for help. I knew where you were, and I just let them do it. I didn’t do anything.”

“And what exactly could you have done?” His eyes search mine. “You’re starting to see it now.”

“Did they get what they wanted?”

His fist clenches. “No.”

“And these?”

Daniel follows my fingers to the bandages on his chest. “They’re nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Daniel…”

“I said no!”

I back off and study him closely. “I told them I would help.”

“I know. That’s why they let me go.”

The air is thick in the silence.

“So, what do we do?”

“I don’t know. My mind is still too messed up right now. We’ll have to figure it out later.”

“How long do we have until they take you again?”

He looks away. “It depends what we give them. It depends on a lot of factors.”

“Why don’t you just tell them what they want to know? Wouldn’t that end all of this?”

“No. We already talked about this.”

I shove my fists in my pockets. His stubbornness is going to get him killed, and where does that leave me? “We didn’t talk about it. You wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“And I still won’t, so stop asking.”

I throw up my hands. “So that’s it then? I go about my business while you get tortured?”

He glares at me and tries to sit up. The pain must be unbearable when he sucks in a ragged breath and collapses again.

But my heart is too shredded to take back my protest. I can’t forgive him for accepting this.

He needs to burn like I do. Plot a gruesome revenge, our epic battle.

Even a hysterical tirade would be better than this.

“I don’t need your accusations. Not now,” he says, and I’m grateful for the sudden fire, even if directed at me.

“Then be honest with me. Why won’t you tell me the truth?”

“What truth? You don’t even know what you’re asking.”

“So explain it to me. Or better yet, let me see.”

He tucks into his shell, and I know I’ve lost. He’s clearly in agony, and I’m furious at him for suffering in silence. For protecting me with a hard front when I should be the one helping him.

“Does it hurt?” I eye the bandages, and he shakes his head. Liar. “You were unconscious when they brought you in. Was it from the drugs?”

“Mostly.”

“Do you want me to go?” I fear his response, but can’t take the sudden distance between us. I messed it all up. Or he did. We both did.

When he looks away, I have my answer.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I just can’t handle your thoughts right now.”

I hate it—and completely understand. “When should I come back?”

“Don’t. I’ll find you.”

I swallow my emotion and move to the door.

“Rebecca, wait,” he calls after me. I turn my head slightly but I can’t look at him. Not if I have any chance of leaving him here alone like this. “It’s not you.” He doesn’t have to finish.

It’s not my fault. I get it. But, what if it is?

Daniel disappears again but leaves enough signs for me to know he’s okay this time.

I appreciate the reassurance even if it does nothing to ease my anxiety.

He knows the pressure we face, that Clausen will badger me about our limited timeline.

I deflect the inquisitions as best I can, but without Daniel’s cooperation, I’m powerless to offer anything more than a promise.

And I miss him. Gosh, I miss him and hate the constant fear that the next time I see him will be in that room. Or maybe… I can’t even think about the or.

I find Sara, Matthew and Connor for the group activity session, doing my best to look the part. Connor rolls his eyes when he sees me, and the slightest of smiles slips over my lips.

“It’s going well,” he whispers.

“When’s the wedding?” I ask.

He grunts. “Aren’t you supposed to be here supporting me? What’s with shirking your responsibility as the wingman’s wingman?”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re nailing it.”