Page 73 of While He Breathes

The room smells of mold and mildew, and there’s a faint dripping sound in the distance that’s so incessant, it’s making my head spin more than whatever they drugged me with.

I’m so fucked.

That’s a reality I’m accepting very quickly.

It’s a few more minutes before I can finally move, and I crack an eye open first, looking around the space to make sure I’m alone.

Travis used to drill me about what to do if I was ever kidnapped, but I truly hoped I would never have to use anything he taught me.

The room is dim and damp, and less of a room and more of a cell.

Cool. This is really fantastic.

The door is within my eye line, and I take in the heavy steel and multiple locks.

Yeah, I’m not going to be escaping anytime soon.

I allow my eyes to drift closed again, giving my body time to rest while it can.

God only knows what Lucas has planned for me, and I need to have my wits about me when he decides to grace me with his presence.

Sometime later, sounds outside my cell drag me back to the land of the living, and most of the fog has lifted from behind my eyes.

It probably won’t be fully gone until I eat something and have some water, but I’m not holding my breath on either of those things right now.

If I had to guess, I’d say they’ll starve me until I agree to whatever it is they want from me.

I stretch my neck and wince, rolling to my back.

Now that I can look around more fully, I can confirm I am, in fact, in some kind of cell, and I’m on the hard, concrete floor despite there being a cot in the other corner of the room.

Seems about right.

I push myself up into a sitting position and frown at the T-shirt that swamps my body.

Where Orion’s clothes bring me comfort, this shirt reeks of sweat and itches to high heaven. I didn’t even know they made fabric that felt this awful against the skin, and I’ve been shopping at thrift stores since I could walk.

Voices on the other side of the door drag my attention from my attire, but no matter how hard I listen, I can’t make out anything they’re saying. Their mumbling lasts a few minutes before everything returns to quiet and that fucking dripping is once again my main soundtrack.

As discreetly as I can manage, I touch my ear, feeling around for the earpiece that Orion fit me for before I left the car, but it’s missing as well.

Of course it is.

Because that would make escaping far too easy.

The thought of Orion makes my stomach roll uncomfortably.

He’ll be losing his fucking mind right now, and Killian will be trying to keep him from going off the deep end.

I can almost hear their argument as Orion demands they storm every building Lucas owns, and Killian reasons with him with all the ways that’s a terrible idea.

If I weren’t so terrified, maybe I could conjure a smile at the thought.

But instead, I give myself a few moments to fall apart.

I have no idea if I’ll ever leave this place, and even though there was a time in the not-so-distant past that I was desperate to die, I now find that I’m equally desperate to live.

It’s funny how that happens.