All Falls Down (46 page)

I pace across the room – eleven steps to the window and another nine to the bathroom. I've made the same circuit so many times I can do it with my eyes closed now. It's been two… maybe three days? I can't even remember. I've tried to escape twice.

I'm too scared to try a third time.

My ribs hurt where Stewart grabbed me last time, squeezing so tight, I think he may have broken one of them. The right side of my face is still one massive bruise. My fingertips are bruised and raw here I tried to dig the nails out of the window. I'm exhausted, but I'm too scared to sleep for long. I don't know when Stewart's going to appear.

He comes at random, popping inside to deliver food, and then disappearing again. He's barely said two words to me. I'm losing my mind. I don't know if anyone even knows I'm gone yet. Surely they do though. Surely they've noticed that Stewart hasn't shown up for work in a few days, and that I haven't tried to retrieve my purse with my phone and keys.

Someone has to be coming for me… right?

God, I hope so.

"Please, Jared," I whisper. "Please."

I'm terrified I'm never going to get out of here.

I wake up to the sound of raised voices below. Someone – a woman – is yelling. I leap from the bed and scramble across the floor to the bedroom door. It's still locked. I press my ear to it, trying to hear over the frantic pounding of my heart.

"What are you thinking?" the woman yells.

She sounds as if she's crying.

Stewart mumbles something, but I can't hear what.

"You'll never get away with this, son."

Son.

Stewart's mom is here!

"Help!" I scream, beating on the door. "Please help me, Ms. Paulson!"

His mom stops talking.

I scream until my voice gives out, but she doesn't come to rescue me. No one does.

"Please, let me go," I beg Stewart.

He's standing across the room, another tray of food in his hands. His eyes are bleary, glassy, like he sleeps less than I do. His hair's a mess, and he hasn't changed in a while. I've never seen him so disheveled.

"I won't tell anyone you took me. Please, Stewart." I'm so tired, I want to curl up in a ball and cry. I think I've been locked in this room for years. Stewart's mom came and went a full day ago. I haven't seen or heard another person. I really am losing my mind. My entire body hurts and I'm feverish… I think I need a doctor.

I have to get out of here.

"It won't be long now," he mutters, sliding the tray onto the top of the dresser. He turns to look at me.

And then he's gone again.

I dive for the door, trying to rip it free of his hands before he gets it closed, but I'm too slow. Too weak. He slams it in my face.

The lock turns.

"No!" I beat on it, screaming and crying. "No!"

I'm burning in hell. My body feels strange, like it belongs to someone else. The fever is raging through me… I think my cheek is infected. Or maybe it's the rib. Or maybe I've just realized that no one is coming for me and I'm going to die here. I haven't seen Stewart in… a full day. Maybe two.

I'm not sure.

My lips are cracked. I hurt everywhere.

"Please," I mumble, tossing and turning on the bed. "Please."

I'm not sure who I'm talking to or even what I'm asking.

I just want this to be over.

"Let's go," Stewart says, shaking me awake.

I blink, staring up at him. It's dark out again, the only light coming from the bulb overhead. I'm freezing cold. For a minute, I think I'm delirious, seeing things.

"Come on," Stewart says again, reaching out to haul me to my feet.

I stumble and sway. I don't know what's wrong with me, but my body doesn't want to work right. I can’t breathe properly. Maybe I'm in shock. No one's coming for me. I'll never see Jared again. Or Kit or Maddi or Lexi. I'll never finish college. Or live the life I've started building for myself.

"Shit," Stewart curses when my legs give out beneath me.

He scoops me up into his arms like I weigh nothing and carries me from the room. I'm so relieved to be out of my prison, I want to cry. I try to ask him where we're going, but all I manage is a weak croak. I try to look around, to memorize where we are, but everything is turning black.

We don't even make it down the stairs before I pass out.

Someone's screaming, wordless agony ripping from their lips in a shrill outburst. The sound comes over and over again, one scream bleeding into another. Everything is dark and I don't know where it's coming from, but I wish it would stop. My head hurts and I'm tired. So tired. I just want to sleep.

"Savannah!"

I come to with a jolt. It takes a moment for my eyes to obey my command to open. When they do, I realize I must really be dying because Jared's standing over me, pain and tears in those cool jade eyes of his. He hasn't shaved lately. His expression is haunted, terrified, but he's so beautiful. My own personal angel. The sky acts like a backdrop behind him, the heavens full of stars.

I try to reach out for him, but I can't.

"Stay with me, beautiful girl," he whispers. "Please stay with me, baby."

I try… but I can't.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Skyscraper

"How is she?" someone whispers.

I think it's Chris. I can't open my eyes to see though. They're too heavy.

"The fever has broken, but she hasn't woken up yet." Jared sounds like he's in hell.

Jared….

Am I dreaming?

"Damn."

"How are the girls?"

"How do you think? They didn't even know they had a brother, now they're going to have to bury him." Chris sighs. "Lucky son of a bitch."

The girls? A brother?

Memory trickles in… they're talking about Lexi and Kit and Maddi. And Stewart.

He's dead?

I think I should feel bad about that, but I don't. I'm relieved.

Is that weird?

"Has his mother been released?" Jared asks.

"Yes. They cut her loose this morning." Chris pauses. "Do you really believe she had nothing to do with this?"

"Yeah," Jared says, "I do. She cared about Matthew; she wouldn't have hurt him. She never stopped to question why Stewart wanted information on T.I. or what he was doing with it. I don't think it ever crossed her mind that he was selling the intel to loyalists passing it along to the militias."

"The bastard," Chris mutters. He sounds pissed. "He's fucking lucky she came to us when she did. Had she waited another day, Savannah might not have made it."

Jared groans, the sound full of pain.

Chris curses. "I'm sorry, bro. She'll be fine. You got to her in time."

"I hope so," Jared whispers.

Something touches my face – his hand, I think. I want to turn into the warmth, but I'm too exhausted to move.

"What are you going to tell her?" Chris asks.

Jared doesn't say anything for a long moment, but his fingertips continue to move across my face, like he's trying to memorize the softness of my skin beneath his rough fingers. My cheek doesn't hurt anymore. I'm not sure why, but I'm glad.

"The truth," he says then. "I'm going to tell her the truth."