by April Marcom
My con was gone. I was hungry. The lump on the back of my head where Roman must have knocked me out ached.
But none of this really mattered to me. All that mattered was the absolute devastation I’d suffered. The loss of Luke. I had to go on living without him, and it was the worst fate imaginable.
I wondered if Roman intended to keep me there forever because I knew he was the guilty one. Even if he did—who cared? What was the point of going on? I wished Harmony was there to put her arm around me, but it wouldn’t have helped. Not really. Without Luke, my spirit was crushed.
The door opened then, but I didn’t bother to look up. “Are you feeling better?” Roman asked.
“No.”
“This might help.” He set down a plate of steaming pasta and a backpack next to me. “I brought you clean clothes and some of your other girly stuff.” How could he act like that? Like everything was normal?
“Why are you doing this to me?” I choked out.
He simply smiled and said, “Because I love you.”
“But I don’t love you.”
“You will. Trust me. I knew the moment I saw you that you were the one. You’re my soul mate, the one I’m meant to be with. Forever. Until you see this too, I have enough love for both of us.”
I wanted to lash out. I wanted to scream and curse him for taking Luke from me—make sure he understood that I would always hate him—but I just didn’t have the energy.
“So...so you’re going to keep me in here forever?”
“Of course not.” He reached out to touch my face, so I leaned away. “When you’re ready to admit that you love me and you’ll let me take care of and love you for the rest of our lives, I’ll let you go. Until then—” He scooted closer and held my hand. “I’ll keep you here with me.”
“Please don’t touch me,” I said, taking my hand away.
He let out a sigh as he smoothed my hair behind my ear. Then he crawled over me and sat beside me on the mattress with his back against the wall. He began running his hand over my back.
“What happens when everyone realizes I’m gone?” I said.
A look of disgust spread over Roman’s face. “They’ll probably think you ran away with him, since he’ll come up missing, too.”
“And what about when spring comes?” I finally turned around to face him. “You’ll have to go back to North Haven—What then? Are you just gonna leave me here to rot?”
“No...” He gave me a frustrated look. “You weren’t supposed to be in their dungeon. You were never supposed to find out...but I’ll figure out something. Nothing will ever come between us again.”
Delusional, twisted idiot! I screamed inside my head. I turned my back to him again and let him resume rubbing it. “I’ll never love you.”
His hand slowed down as he said, “You will, Kristine. Even if I have to wait years for it, you will love me.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
~ Escape Plan ~
Days had gone by. I didn’t know how many. Without a clock or routine, I had no concept of night or day.
I hardly ate. I only got out of bed to use the bathroom. Then I climbed back under the sweaty blankets to mourn. After a few days of this, you’d think Roman would have gotten kind of grossed out, but it never bothered him. If anything, he became more obsessed, spending every spare minute he had with me, even though I wouldn’t talk to him or let him near me.
The only thing I bothered to ask during this terrible spell was why he attacked Rose. He reminded me that we were fighting earlier that day and that he’d promised to make it up to me. So he got me Rose’s spot on the Tracers, like this justified everything. I didn’t bother reminding him that it was always mine if I’d wanted it, because he just wasn’t worth it.
He began to look a lot happier and healthier, though, because in his sick twisted mind things were finally okay. On the other hand, I began to take his place as the sickly one. But then something happened that snapped me out of it completely. I was lying on my stomach with my face in my pillow, wishing I were dead, when I heard a voice—Luke’s voice. “Kristine—” it called distantly from above my head.
“Luke!” I jumped up and screamed. The voice called for me three more times. Each time I called back, but it never did more than call for me again. And then it stopped.
“I’m hearing voices,” I said to myself, shaking my head. “I’ve gone insane.” The solitude and nonstop grieving were making me crazy—literally. As much as I longed to hear Luke’s voice again, I couldn’t deal with hearing things.
But what could I do? I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t stop being sad.
Another voice came. Then another. I heard two people talking, but it was too hard to hear to know what they were saying, or even if they were boys or girls.
My hands began shaking as I covered my ears and shut my eyes. Was this my life now? Locked up somewhere in Southland Cinder High, slowly going completely insane? No...Luke didn’t die just so this could happen to me.
I let my hands fall as I thought about what he’d been through, the guts it took to stand boldly within the crowd he was part of before he came here. The fearless attitude he had when he stood up to fight Titus. Maybe I should try to be more like that, living without fear because death would come as a relief.
I would pick myself up and get out of here, I resolved, if only to prove Luke’s innocence and make sure everyone knew it was Roman. They deserved to know the truth. They deserved to feel sorry for placing the blame on him.
So I struggled to unzip the backpack beside my bed, which hadn’t been touched, and pulled out a sweater and pair of jeans. It was hard, for some reason. My fingers felt stiff and weak, like I was using them for the first time. In the end, I took the whole pack with me, so I’d have shampoo and a hairbrush and stuff too.
It was a tiny stone bathroom with three light bulbs above the mirror. I peeled away my sweaty shadow suit and had to leave it hooked on the chain, since I couldn’t pull the leg part up over my entire body. Then I climbed into the little three-by-three square foot shower and turned on the water, which was already warm. I figured I couldn’t be too far from the boiler room.
As the water washed over my skin, I cried for Luke. I had to get out. I had to get back to Harmony and Sassy and Nadine and North Haven and my own bed.
I knew I could tell Roman what he wanted to hear and be who he wanted me to be long enough to get free—but no—I would never do that, even if my freedom and sanity depended on it. It would be an insult to Luke...the man Roman killed...just for loving me...
I took in a painful breath and whimpered. “Oh, Luke...”
No, get it together. For him. I struggled to put the pain on hold long enough to think straight. I had to regain Roman’s trust without affection, but he would never let me go. Not without me faking love.
Maybe, maybe I could get him to let his guard down. I could play nice—pretend everything’s rosy and we’re friends for a while. Lure him into a false feeling of security. I could wait with the chain in my hands behind the bathroom door, leave it cracked just enough to see him when he gets close, and then wrap the chain around his neck from behind and take him down. Then, hopefully, he would have a key or something on him that I could use to get free. It wasn’t the best plan, but it was all I could come up with.
And if I failed and Roman freaked out and hurt me, who cared? If I got away and ran into the Cinders, who cared? Living without Luke was worse than dying. And at least I would be able to say I did everything I could for him.
By the time I got out of the shower, I felt much better, like the sick draining feeling I’d suffered from for days had been washed away. Too bad it didn’t take care of the pain. But it was enough to really let me feel my anger toward Roman, too.
As I dried off and brushed my hair and teeth, I felt a rising rage toward him. He’d taken North Haven away from me. He’d taken away my best friends. He’d killed my real soul mate and imprisoned me for who knows how long.
Every cell in my body hated him almost as fiercely as they still loved Luke.
Getting dressed was a pain. I couldn’t get my shadow suit or jeans on or off right. In the end, I had to leave the suit dangling from it and the chain running from my ankle to my waist in my pants. Of course this only fueled my fury.
When I walked out of the bathroom at about the same time Roman came in with a bag in his hand, it was extremely difficult to put a happy face on.
“Breakfast—Wow,” he said, staring at me. “You look like a million bucks. Are you finally feeling better?”
“Yep, but my North Haven suit’s stuck on this chain.” If Roman knew it was a shadow suit, he never let on, making this a perfect way to find out.
“I can help you with that if you sit down,” he said, locking the door behind him. He came and sat across from me. “I’ll let you free long enough to get your suit off—if you kiss me.”
Seriously? That’s all it would take to get free? No—It would take fighting and overpowering him, both things I knew I would fail at if I made a move then. And besides, I wasn’t kissing him! “Sorry, Roman, I’m not ready for that yet. Couldn’t we give the friend thing a shot first?”
“If that’s what it takes, I guess.” He leaned over to reach into his back pocket, the opposite one he kept the door key in, and pulled out an old cast iron key. Roman kept eye contact with me as he picked up my leg and unlocked the shackle.
“Thanks,” I said, turning my ankle around, free at last.
I tried to stand up, but Roman got this awful look on his face. He grabbed my foot and pulled it out straight, making me fall back down.
“Why’d you do that?” I asked.
“You’re not leaving me.”
“I wasn’t trying to. I just need to stand up so I can pull this out through my pants.” I held part of the chain out to him.
“You can lay down and do it. You’re not standing up until this is locked back on you.”
I fumed inside at this, talking to me like a dog tied up in the backyard, but I had to hold back. “All right,” I said, pretending it didn’t bother me at all as I laid back and tugged on the chain until it was out, relying on the memory of Luke to keep me levelheaded.
After taking the suit off, I laid my foot in Roman’s lap so he would know I was ready and that he could trust me. He pulled my pants leg up a few inches and ran the back of his fingers over my freshly shaven legs. “I hate to put this back on you.”
I let him enjoy it a little while longer before I said, “Then don’t.”
He gave me a ruthless look as he snapped the heavy ring around my ankle. “I have to.” He continued to stare at me as I tried to think of something to say.
“How long have I been here?” I finally asked.
“This is day number eight.”
I wondered how long he would keep looking at me like that. “Um, could you maybe get me a different blanket?” I asked. “This one could use a good washing.” I hadn’t realized how rank it smelled until after my shower.
He let out a breath and looked down for a second. “I’m sorry, Kristine. I hate doing this to you. I hate it even more with you acting like yourself again. I just don’t know what else to do. I want to set you free, but you’d leave me. How can I trust you when you spent the last eight weeks with another guy?”
Darn straight I’d leave you.
“Sooo, no clean blankets?”
Roman snickered. “I’ll find you some. I can wash your suit too.”
I pulled it away from him and held it behind me. “That’s okay. I can wash it myself in the bathroom.”
He stood up and pulled the sheets and blanket off the mattress. “Why don’t you eat something? I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Okay.”
Holding the bundle at his side, Roman held a hand out to help me up. Then he used his free arm to wrap around me. “Mmm. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Me, too—And hey, could you bring me more clothes so I have something to change into tomorrow—and a clock, so I can keep up with the days.”
He smiled and kissed my cheek. “Your wish is my command.”
When he was gone, I sat on the floor and fished out a few pieces of bacon from the sandwich in the bag, feeling absolutely disgusted. My skin was crawling. My heart ached. It was a vile feeling to have Luke’s killer hug me. The terrible drained feeling was returning, because it took everything in me to be nice to Roman.
“Okay,” I said to myself, trying to focus. It’s been eight days. I can’t handle eight more. But getting on Roman’s good side won’t happen overnight. Five days. That’s how long I’ll give myself to suck up to him. Then on the sixth day, I would wait for him in the bathroom in the morning and put my plan into action. Maybe with a clock, I could time his arrivals.
Now that that was settled, I set my bacon down so I could cry for Luke some more.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
~ Go Day ~
The first day of resolution, I went back and forth with the idea of washing my shadow suit, since I had no idea if it would ruin it or not. But in the end, I decided to, because I was not putting it back on when it smelled like that.
Roman brought me everything I asked for, including an old battery-powered clock. It was one of the stolen things they’d pulled out from under Luke’s bed, I realized, which totally ticked me off. But it helped me figure out that Roman came every morning at about six-thirty with enough breakfast for both of us. And it had an alarm. That meant I would be able to get up at six a.m. and wait for him when the time came.
I hated his visits. They always left me feeling extra drained and a little sick to my stomach. I felt dirty, like I’d committed an unforgivable sin in playing friend to the enemy. But it was necessary.
And the voices. They still came. Once in the middle of the night two days after I first heard them, and then the next morning. Twice the next day. Each time was scarier than the one before. But it was during those times that my commitment to do whatever it took to get free was strengthened, because it reminded me that there was no choice. I had to get away.
The night before Go Day, I took the risk of putting the shadow suit on and having Roman unlock me long enough to pull the chain out. I was extremely careful with the movement of my arms, or course. When I tried out the suit later, it still worked, which meant that I was as ready for the next morning as I could be. So after Roman left, the last thing I did before I went to bed was set the alarm for six a.m.
I struggled to fall asleep, because, even though I was broken and felt like it didn’t matter if I died or not, I was still pretty nervous about the next morning. I tried to get myself excited, thinking about seeing my friends and Headmaster and exposing Roman. But all I could do was be scared.
I really hoped I would be able to go through with it.
* * * *
The deafeningly shrill alarm woke me up in the morning. It was loud enough that I wondered if the whole place could hear it. That’s one way to get your heart going a mile a minute when you wake up, I thought as I sat up, knowing it wouldn’t be able to slow down until my mission was complete.
I shut the alarm off and went into the bathroom, leaving the door open about a foot and a half. A splash of light cut through the darkness of the floor at my feet.
I took the thick chain in both hands and waited. My arms were tired within minutes, so I squatted down and rested my hands against the ground, still holding the chain.
As time passed, I began kicking myself for not putting the clock where I could see it. I had no idea how much time had gone by, but I was too terrified to move a muscle.
I couldn’t blow this. If Roman came in while I was moving the clock, everything would be ruined. I couldn’t handle another day in that room, worrying about the morning when I would try to get away. Because the waiting was making me as crazy as everything else was. There were so many uncertainties, so many things that could go wrong. I had to get it over with.
&n
bsp; I knew my mind was clouded by this almost debilitating fear, but when I heard someone rattle the doorknob, I was certain it couldn’t be time yet. There was no way half an hour had passed by.
So he’s early. I’ll just get this thing over with that much sooner.
Silently, I stood back up and gripped the powerful links of steel in my trembling hands. My heartbeat thumped against my ears and fingertips. This was it.
So why wasn’t the door opening? There was a long groan of metal twisting and scraping. And then there was a crash loud enough that I jumped, clanking the chains together. My heart raced faster as I fought to quiet them down, sure I would faint at any moment.
What if it wasn’t him? Whoever was out there was early, and it sounded like the whole door might have just come down.
It didn’t matter. I couldn’t afford to hold back until I knew if it was Roman or not. Strangle first, ask questions later. I sound like a Cinder, I thought with a shudder, forcing my mind back to the crisis at hand.
“Kristine?” someone whispered. It could have been Roman. It could have been anyone. I stood ready with the chain.
Footsteps came closer. My mouth became sandpaper and my eyes became saucers. “Kristine, are you in here?”
With fear and vengeance leading the way, I reached out when I saw him walk past the door. I threw the chain around his neck in a blur of dark silver and pulled.
But one massive hand dropped the crowbar it held to grab my suit at the pants and pick me up like a ragdoll, shifting my center of gravity and slamming my head against the ground on the way up. He swung me over his head and through the air. I barely had time to process what was happening before my back was slamming against the mattress so hard it felt like it wasn’t even there.
I couldn’t breathe. My ankle hurt from being yanked so hard by the impenetrable iron that was holding it fast. My chest contracted in its failing attempt to draw breath. I reached up and feebly hit my attacker twice before he crouched down beside me.