A Lament for the Lost
When it was time, I quietly got out of my cuffs and stood. Willow had been stirring for some time, and I was sure she was going to wake up. But she just whimpered in distress and misery. I didn’t want to watch it anymore. I went for the door.
She cried softly, and I turned with my hand on the doorknob. Her fists were in the sheets. and her face was so broken.
What the hell? I was an inch from freedom, and I let a cry stop me. I hated what I was about to do, but I couldn’t make my body stop carrying me to Pepper’s bag. Resigned, I fished out some of the drugs she’d given me and loaded up a needle.
I gently sat by her bedside as to not startle her. I needed her quiet. I set the needle down and caught her just as she sat up in terror. My hand went to her hip, and the other to her leg as I tried comforting her. She rested so easily against me. I rubbed her hip.
“Shh,” I hushed her quietly. “You were having a nightmare. You’re safe now. Close your eyes and go back to sleep.”
I knew why I was doing it. I was giving her a kindness because she’d done it for me. Most of the time, I didn’t care about being even, but this felt different. I just had to do this.
Her groggy voice said, “You’re not handcuffed.”
I had to do it quickly. She was sleepy and sick enough to not react like she should.
“Just close your eyes for me. Please, Sugar.”
“How are you out?” Her eyes were right on mine, and it was unnerving. Having her in such a vulnerable state made her so much softer—something fragile and far too easy to break. I didn’t like it.
“Shh,” I hushed her again as I laid her down.
“It hurts,” she whimpered weakly.
Her gentleness was doing something to me. I’d made a good choice in leaving then. The more time I spent with her, the more she was becoming an actual person to me. I could still see her as someone other than what I used to know her as so long ago. That girl I built her up to be in my head. She wasn’t who was here. They were different people.
I readied the needle against her arm. “I know. I’ll make it stop.”
“Thank you—” She stopped when I injected her. She was fading in an instant, but she made a quiet sound of panic. She thought I was hurting her.
“Don’t worry. It’s just to make you go back to sleep,” I promised. I watched her until she was sleeping again, and I stood from the bed. I disposed of the needle and went for the door.
I stopped again. I needed something first. So I went to her bag and searched until I found what I needed. I knew I had no right to them, but it didn’t matter. I had to have them. Once I did, I walked out the door and left the girl with the midnight blue eyes behind.
I headed as far as I could go on my feet before I needed to make a call. I had a few bucks in my pocket but not my phone. So I just went to the nearest payphone and dropped a few quarters into it.
Ring, ring, ring.
“Hello?” my father answered. “This is a private number. How did you get this?”
“Dad, it’s me.”
“Fitz,” he breathed. “What the hell happened? Did you up and leave again? You know that I’m fine with the occasional tryst you like to go on, but I’d at least like you to tell me first.”
“No. That didn’t happen.” I told him about what had happened and how I’d gotten away.
“Good. Just unfortunate you didn’t learn much. Maybe if you had more time with them. Are you sure they had nothing planned?”
“They’re just children. They can’t figure out a thing.”
“That just means they’re sloppy. There is more to learn. Always.”
Damn. He wanted me to stay. I just couldn’t. But if I was given an order, I couldn’t disobey.
“I’ll figure something out,” I told him.
“I know you will.”
About the Author:
Nicole Thorn is a writer in her twenties who spends her days discussing fictional characters with her writer friend and having very serious opinions about which house she would want to be sorted into at Hogwarts. Spending most of her life in sunny California and now trapped in sunny Arizona, she likes to write about rainy towns that are infested with the things that go bump in the night.
Look for her new releases with CHBB Publishing as well as Burning Willow Press. We at Burning Willow Press believe in supporting all of the work our authors put out. Not just with us. After all, it's all about the story!
THE LOST ONES SERIES
The lost girl has come home.
Book 1 http://smarturl.it/Lament1
Book 2 http://smarturl.it/RequiemForTheFound
Book 3 smarturl.it/TheLostOnesSeriesBk3
#YA #Paranormal #Fantasy #KindleUnlimited