“I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep you safe,” he says, solemnly.
He lifts his head up to look at me with tears gathering in his beautiful eyes. It has to be one of the most heartbreaking things I have ever seen. He, finally, steps towards the doorway, resting his hands on top of mine with more care than I’ve ever known.
His words seem to be caught in his throat. His mouth opens and even mouths words, but he isn’t able to mumble anything from being overwhelmed with guilt and sadness.
“It’s okay, Degory,” I comfort, feeling guilty myself for making him feel this way.
I hate myself for getting us caught, but I can’t find the words to tell him that it was my fault they found us.
“We’ll figure out how to -”
“They’re watching me closely, Sunny,” he reveals, suddenly anxious to get this information to me before his guard’s return.
His panic surprises me and catches me off guard a little. He’s more unnerved than when he first heard Eden was after me.
“Martin is my subordinate and Hacker is a longtime friend of mine,” he explains. “They have been ordered to keep a close eye on me by the Counsel and Head Captain to make sure I don’t try to help you escape, or act out of the ordinary again…”
“That’s…that’s okay,” I whisper, worry clouding my voice.
I have no idea what we are going to do now, but I have to calm Degory down. Him being so riled up will only make them watch him more, and without his expertise, there’s no way I’m getting out of here. He’s the brains, and he needs to be focused to use it.
“They are waiting outside the door for me to be finished here,” he continues, breathing as if he just finished running a marathon. “I can’t stay long or they will get suspicious.”
I whimper quietly. I figured he wouldn’t be able to stay with me, but seeing him so upset without being able to do a damn thing about it makes me feel like a piece of me is dying.
“They are going to hold a sort of trial with the Head Counsel to determine your fate,” he forges ahead, sniffling away the building tears. “You will be brought to them, asked some questions, and then escorted back here to await their verdict.”
“I’m hoping it’ll be me who gets to tell you their judgment, but I have no idea at this point,” he reveals. “I’m lucky they allowed me here in the first place.”
He squeezes my hands, afraid he won’t be able to touch my smooth skin again. He’s quiet for a moment, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to run down his face. I place my head against the cool bars and he leans in, too, so that our foreheads are against each other.
I’m able to hold back my tears being able to feel is cold skin against mine. It comforts both of us enough to stay strong for each other, since we are unable to hold each other. It’s the best we can do in the situation that’s been given to us, and we take advantage of it.
“When is the trial?” I ask, clearing my throat.
“Tomorrow at noon,” he starts reluctantly, sniffling again.
He lets go of the bars momentarily to wipe the tears that escaped his eyes before replacing his hand back on top of mine.
“It’s currently ten in the evening,” he informs me. “So, you have time to rest before you have to appear.”
“How long have I been unconscious?” I wonder aloud, flinching from the memory of being thrown at the cement wall behind me.
He sniffles again before speaking.
“I’m not sure, several hours, though,” he responds.
Concern contorts his face, realizing something happened for me to be unconscious for that long. I quickly ask another question so that I don’t give him a chance to ask how it happened.
“What happened when we got here?” I inquire, as nonchalant as possible. “They put a bag over my head, so I have no idea where we are or when they took you away from me.”
He clears his throat to avoid sniffling again.
“Our paths parted when you entered the prison,” he confirms for me. “The Stealth Division – also called the Special Task Force – took me straight to the Head Captain while the leader brought you here.”
“I fought them the whole way there,” he says. “All I could think about was getting free of them, back to you, and getting you out of here. Even when I was in front of my superior, I fought to see you again. To make sure you were okay."
“Once I was in front of the Head Captain,” he continues, “he questioned me about my actions since I left the Captain’s meeting a few days ago, what my relationship is with you, and how we met. The questions became increasingly more invasive quite quickly.”
“He tested my allegiance to Eden and the other Reapers, and then ordered the two closest to me to keep watch on me,” Degory says. “He made an announcement afterward to all the Captains and Lieutenants about the trial. I asked if I could inform you, since I got you involved and he granted my request. I was shocked. It is the only reason I stand before you now."
I feel his eyes wander to the bandages covering my head and know what he's going to say next. Changing the subject won’t stop him.
“What did the Special Task Force do with you once I left?” he asks. “Why is your head bandaged?”
His voice cracks painfully when he mentions my head. I can tell he feels responsible for not protecting me, and I can hear the anger in his voice towards himself and the perpetrator. He wants to teach the one who hurt me a lesson for ever laying hands on me.
I want to tell him it’s okay, that it’s my fault we were found in the first place, but I still can’t muster the courage to reveal the truth.
“Please don't worry about it,” I stress instead.
It may not have been nice of the leader to throw me against the wall, but I’ve never been fond of revenge. Maybe I even deserve it for not being more careful at the cabin.
“Please, Sunny…” he begs.
He lifts his head slightly so that our eyes meet, and the regret in his eyes makes my heart sink. I can’t resist those eyes.
“I tried to escape when the leader finally put me down and was trying to lock me up in here. He threw me against the wall trying to keep me inside the cell.”
My voice is barely more than a whisper. I half hope he can’t hear me, but I know better.
“Please don’t go after him," I plead, almost begging. "It was my own fault that he did this. I’m sorry that I tried to escape, I should have stayed put. He was only following orders…”
“I’m sorry, my love,” he apologizes, interrupting my train of thought.
His voice no longer holds regret as it did before. The emotion emitting from him is something I don’t recognize from him. He almost sounds like a stranger.
“I cannot promise you that.”
Chapter 17
My eyes are wide with fear. I back away from the doorway a few steps and he lifts his head to look at me. I see rage. It has changed his beautiful eyes to an icy shade of blue.
When he looks into my eyes, the rage changes to surprise and confusion towards my reaction. It takes him a moment to realize I’m afraid of how angry he is. His features soften almost instantly, his eyes back to their natural color, and he sighs deeply.
“I’m sorry,” he confesses. “I don’t like seeing you afraid of me. I don’t ever want you to be scared of me”
I can’t say anything. My mouth won’t move. I have never seen anyone so filled with rage in my life. It scared me more than I care to admit. I didn’t know he had it in him. I suppose I should have expected it, but it caught me completely off guard. I can see why he’s so respected as a Reaper Captain with that kind of anger and power behind him.
“I promise I will keep myself under control,” he vows. “Okay?”
I nod slowly, almost reluctantly. His sincerity convinces me to trust him. He hasn’t done nothing but protect me until this point anyway.
“Will you come here, please?” he asks gently, hand outstretched towards me. “We don’t have much longer before they com
e back for me, and I don’t want to leave with you frightened of me. I couldn’t survive it…”
I’m extremely hesitant. I know in my heart that no matter how angry he is, it isn’t aimed towards me and he will never hurt me. Either way, he almost scared the literal shit out of me. I take a few cautious steps before closing the gap between us again, taking his hand in mine.
He smiles and lets out a relieved sigh. He puts his other hand through the bars so he can wrap his arms around me and pull me close.
Although this isn’t the ideal situation because of the bars, it feels really good having his arms around me for even a moment. I relax a bit, letting his cool touch soothe the fire inside me once again.
I kiss him for a second, and pull away hoping that is all I will need from him to get me through, but it isn’t. I need more.
He’s searching my face for an idea, anything to make time stop, or slow down, so we can have more time together. So that he can give me some sort of relief or comfort before he has to leave me all alone again.
He leans in and kisses me deeply, not wanting to let me go. Dread fills my heart knowing he will have to leave. That the nightmare is just beginning.
The door creaks open, but he doesn’t pull away as I expect him to. The kissing stops, but he remains against the bars with me in his arms. He allows his colleagues to see him holding me and our faces mere inches apart.
It comforts me knowing he isn’t going to put a show on, no matter who is watching, and I think that is his intent. He wants me to know without a doubt that I’m what matters to him.
“Captain…” the tall, busty woman calls.
I can’t see them from where I am, not even a hint of their shadows. They must have stayed just inside the doorway.
Degory hesitates, his limbs tensing. He licks his lips and gnaws on the lower one, wanting to kiss me again, but slowly pulls away from me. His longing to stay with me and get me out is almost palpable. It makes me want to burn this place to the ground.
However, he whispers, ‘I love you’ before, with contrition, turning to the lieutenants waiting for him. His footsteps echo off the walls until he stops in front of them.
I back away from the bars and start crying. Sobbing, actually. The gross kind where there is snot and tears everywhere, and you can’t stop them from flowing down your face and making you feel disgusting.
The realization of my dire situation is starting to sink in. I don’t know if I can do this without him with me to give me strength.
I’m not sure if he hears me blubbering or not. I don’t even hear the door shut behind them when they leave, but they must have. I’m bawling uncontrollably and I can’t even get myself to be quiet about it. There’s no way of holding them back.
I collapse onto the floor in a clump, wailing. I stay there for a long time. When the tears stop falling, I wipe my face on my dirty clothing. I still have my winter jacket on. I want to be strong and be the person who stays positive and optimistic through any situation, but I can’t. All I keep thinking about is being someone’s test subject.
After a few hours of visualizing the different tortures that they might think up, I try to stand. My feet and calves have fallen asleep, so I have to use the bed to lift myself up. Even then, I can only get up enough to sit on the edge of it.
It’s like all my energy has been sucked out of me again. This time I know why, though. I lean over and place my head in my hands, rubbing my eyes and praying that this is all a bad nightmare. I lay down to sleep, hoping that when I wake up, I will be safe at home in my own bed.
I cover myself with the light sheet provided me, and lay my pounding head on the deflated pillow. Shifting onto my back, I stare up at the ceiling, picturing Degory. I think about everything we have gone through the past few days.
Reminiscing about the first time we met, I can’t help thinking how, even then, we had a deep connection. Even if we couldn’t articulate it yet. I remember how it felt just the night before when he held me as we slept. How happy I was to be with him, and able to fall asleep in his arms. I had no idea how quickly I would lose it.
These happy thoughts help me drift off into a dreamless sleep, even if they are a bit depressing.
I’m abruptly awakened by someone yelling into the cell for me to wake up. I lower my feet over the side of the bed and sit up, rubbing my eyes. I can feel how swollen they are from crying the night before, and it’s difficult to open my eyes all the way.
My head still hurts, but it isn’t throbbing anymore, while my entire body is stiff from being thrown at the concrete wall by the Stealth Force leader.
I look up to see someone new standing in front of the bars. He’s taller than me but average height for a male, bald, and looks as if he loves to fight.
He has a fierce look about him that makes him look like a fighter, and that he enjoys the thrill of a good fight. He seems annoyed that he has prisoner detail. Like he believes he’s better than having to take some measly human to the Head Counsel for the trial.
I stand up, facing him, and he unlocks the bars. He enters the cell, leaving the door open, and pushes me towards the exit. Once we are out of the room, a hood is placed over my head again, and my hands tied by a rope in front of me. There’s another rope attached to the ones around my wrists that he tugs on.
He pulls me along like I’m some sort of family pet that he never wanted. He’s nice enough to let me know when there are stairs in front of me so I don’t trip, but he sounds bored whenever he speaks to me. Like he doesn’t actually care if I trip and fall, he just doesn’t want to deal with helping me stand back up and how it would delay his prisoner duty.
I guess he is more speaking at me than to me, but either way he’s very disinterested in the whole debacle, which is fine for me.
Once we reach ground level, I don’t have to worry about stairs, which is nice. I can smell fresh air, thankfully letting me know we have finally made it outside. I try to take the hood off to get a peek of what Eden looks like, but every time I lift my hands the man leading me can feel the pull of the rope and tugs on it for me to put my hands back down.
I wonder, momentarily, how many times it will take him to get annoyed and do something more drastic. It might make a good distraction if I want to escape, but Degory is nowhere near to help me. I don’t think, anyway. I can’t feel his presence anywhere near, so his companions must be keeping him elsewhere.
I don’t know how to get back to that doorway to the Living World, nor do I know how to use it, so I’m better off playing nice and doing what he wants.
After a few minutes, someone joins us. Another man that sounds somewhat feminine, but also ready to fight at a moment’s notice, like the man leading me. I’m not sure why they seem so bored with their lives without the excitement of a fight, but it’s really strange for me to listen in on them.
I can’t hear much with the hood over my head, but I do hear them talk about the menial task of bringing a ‘silly human’ to the Head Counsel that doesn’t even look like a threat. I try to ignore them and focus on walking so I don’t trip on my own feet, but it’s difficult. I can imagine their annoyance if I cause them trouble by falling down.
It’s an entertaining thought, but I’m already in deep shit as it is. No reason to make it worse on myself.
It seems like it takes an hour for us to walk to the building the bald man leading me is looking for, but probably closer to around twenty minutes. They are just boring me with their insignificant bantering that it feels a lot longer. I have no idea what this building looks like, but the lack of fresh air alerts me when we enter another building.
We walk a few minutes before going down stairs and entering another room. The slack on the rope loosens and I can feel the man’s hands on my shoulders. I try to fight him off, but he overpowers me with ease – just like everyone else in this hell hole that’s supposed to be heaven.
He sits me down on a high-backed, wooden chair, unties the rope, and straps my arms and legs to th
e chair. I’m a little annoyed that there isn’t even a cushion on it, but I can’t find the words to complain about it.
I try to grunt and groan, but it has no effect on my escort. He removes the mask, bows to the huge crowd before us, and leaves.
I have never been one to enjoy the spotlight, so being stared at by, what seems to be, at least one hundred individuals seated before me is more than intimidating. It’s terrifying. I can’t tell if they are looking straight at me or not, I just assume they are.
Every single one of them has a hood over their faces, distorting their features and hiding their eyes. The only clue I have is they are all facing my direction.
“Girl,” a low, booming male voice echoes down to me.
He sounds elderly. His voice seems as if it’s coming from the middle of the group in front of me, but I honestly can’t tell. With the strange acoustics in this room and stupid hoods, there’s no way to tell. He could be the guy on the bottom row in front of me for all I know.
“State your name for the court,” the voice orders.
“Sunny Siebel,” I mumble.
I don’t speak above a whisper, yet somehow my soft voice reverberates off the walls and throughout the room as if I had yelled. I look around, wide-eyed and bewildered, trying to figure out how my voice had been amplified without a microphone in my face.
“Ms. Siebel,” the voice continues, ignoring my confusion. “We know that you possess the ability to create fire and use it to harm others. How do you plea?”
“Uhmm, it’s not that simple,” I whimper. “I would never hurt an innocent person or spirit. I have, and would, only use the fire against Mali-”
“How do you plea?” he repeats, raising his tone and interrupting me.
There is a massive amount of authority in his voice that throws me for a loop when he speaks. I’m trembling in my chair simply hearing him talk.
“It’s not that simple –” I attempt.
“SILENCE!” the voice booms, louder than before.
I would have covered my ears if I was able to, but I just squish my eyes together as a reflex.
Waiting a Lifetime (The Waiting Series Book 1) Page 16