I squeezed my eyes shut. Fuck me. My plan was full of prayer, what-ifs
,
and
I hopes—
all of those hanging by a thread of good luck. My luck was rarely good.
Maybe this time would be different.
Fat chance.
Chapter 7
Despite my wounds, at some point I fell asleep. The sound of the lock snicking back woke me. I jerked up straight and groaned as pain flared all along my body. The burns were the worst, but the convulsions had pulled muscles, and bruises throbbed everywhere else. I held my hands up in front of me like a surgeon waiting for gloves, hoping the blood would run down out of them and they’d stop hurting.
I had a better chance that leprechauns would rescue me.
The door swung open, and Madison brought my breakfast tray in. She set it down and looked at me, her gaze gravitating to my arms. She gasped and put her hand over her mouth. I didn’t really want to see the damage, but I couldn’t help myself now that she was looking.
Most of the burns had turned into pink-and-yellow blisters, each the size of a nickel. I’d have thought they’d be smaller. The edges along my skin were white, red, and gray. A couple of blisters had popped at some point, crusting my skin with pus and other seepage. The wounds were purply-red with puckered centers. I looked like I had smallpox.
I decided that I was definitely not going to throw up, and instead slid off the side of the bed. “Good morning,” I said to Madison, firming my knees up before crossing over to the table. I really needed to pee. I really wasn’t going to do it in front of guests.
I lifted the cover off the tray. Underneath was a vegetable and cheese omelet, hash browns, sausages and bacon, and a cup of canned fruit. There was also a can of V8. No coffee. Somebody was a sadist.
I picked up the plastic fork and knife, and started eating. I made a face as I swallowed the first bite. Epic bland. “Is there any salt or pepper? Maybe hot sauce?”
“This isn’t a restaurant,” Luke said from the doorway. He was either wearing the same clothes as the night before, or he had a drawer of black shirts and khaki pants and not a lot of taste. Probably wore tighty-whities, too. Two sizes too small if his expression was anything to go by.
“Right. It’s a prison. How could I have forgotten I wasn’t at the Ritz?”
“C’mon, Madison,” was Luke’s only reply.
“I’m really sorry I can’t help you,” she said to me.
“Me too,” I said, then decided that she deserved a little more civility. After all, she’d brought me pills for the pain. “I understand. I don’t want Percy going after you. You’re right not to take chances. I appreciate that you want to.”
If I thought that would ease her mind, it did anything but. Her chin crumpled and tears welled in her eyes. She clutched her hands together.
“I really want to,” she started, but then Luke grabbed her elbow and pulled her outside, giving me an icy stare as he did.
The bolt shot into place, and the two trundled away with the serving cart. I could hear Luke’s oppressive silence and Madison’s sniffles. Maybe I was crazy, but I felt more sorry for her at that moment than for myself.
Taking advantage of the momentary alone time, I relieved myself on the toilet. After I’d washed up and let the ice water run over my arms for a few minutes, I returned to my breakfast. It had gone from decently hot to barely more than cool. I made a face but finished anyway. After all, this was prison, not a restaurant.
Afterward, I paced. I had no idea what time it was. I wished I could do more to try to contact Leo. I knew he could sense things through the metal of the room, but it wasn’t like I could talk and he’d hear me. It was more that he would know where I was, maybe even how I was doing. I wished I knew Morse code. He’d probably hear that. Note to self—if I got out of here alive, learn Morse code.
I also didn’t know when I’d be dragged back to the fume room or to see Percy. I’d decided he probably wasn’t going to come visit me. If nothing else, there was no comfortable place to sit.
In what I assumed was an hour, the bolt shot back on the door again, and it swung open. This time Luke was alone. That was probably better for Madison.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me what’s next on the agenda for me,” I asked.
He looked at me, he eyes narrowed. “Don’t involve Madison in your mess,” he said. “She’s a good kid and she doesn’t need an extra helping of shit to make her hell worse.”
I blinked, not expecting that. Curiosity got the better of me. I refuse to say
stupidity
, because, after all, it’s not like I could do anything to help her. “What’s her story?”
“None of your damned business,” Luke snapped. “Just stay the fuck away from her.”
“It’s not like I’m bringing
her
food,” I pointed out. “I’m in the jail cell, remember?”
He growled in frustration. “You know what I mean. She feels for you. You could talk her into helping you. Don’t. I swear I’ll make your life hell if you do.”
Wow. He must have it bad for her. “Don’t get your panties in a wad, Fonzi,” I said. “I’m off to the gas chamber soon, remember? After that, I probably won’t even remember my own name.”
He frowned at me. “You don’t act like you’ve been smoked.”
I shrugged, wondering what I could do to fake it better. “What do you want, more convulsions? Maybe I could dance around with a lampshade on my head?”
A faint smile made him look almost human. It vanished. “Just leave Madison out of whatever game you’ve got planned.”
“I’m not a child, Luke.”
He spun around. The young woman in question stood just within the doorway, hands on her hips, her mouth pressed flat in fury.
“You act like one sometimes,” he said, thrusting the tray at her.
She didn’t take it. “Says Grampa Luke, right? Ten years older than dirt? Been everywhere? Seen everything? Give me a break. I’m twenty-four years old, and maybe I haven’t done a lot with my life yet, but that doesn’t make me a baby. So quit treating me like one.”
I blinked at her. Twenty-four? I’d figured she was scraping up against twenty-one, tops. Even though I was only a few years older than she was, I felt about a hundred and two. She didn’t seem like she got out much.
“You need to get out of here and stop thinking what you’re thinking,” he told her.
“Now you’re a mind reader?” she asked, not giving an inch, despite the menace in his stance.
I was starting to like her more and more. She had backbone.
Before Luke could say anything else, more company joined us.
“My, my. I didn’t think to find you with so much company,” Percy said in that slick, oily voice of his. The smell of cigarette smoke invaded my cell with him. Turns out he
had
decided to visit me this morning. Thank goodness I hadn’t used the heal-all yet.
Percy studied Luke from head to toe. The other man flushed and straightened like someone had shoved a hot poker up his ass. Percy smiled faintly, and his attention shifted to Madison.
“Did you forget how to do your job, my dear?” He motioned at the tray that Luke still held.
“Of course not,” she said in an ultrapleasant voice. Probably the same one Norman Bates used. “Let me have it, please.” She held her hands out to take the tray and went out to the cart. She rolled it away without waiting for watchdog Luke.
“Did you sleep well?” Percy asked me, walking around to inspect the room.
I half expected him to pull out a white glove and look for dust.
“I had a little trouble getting comfortable,” I said. “The bed might as well be granite. And by the way? The breakfast is a little on the bland side. You probably ought to mention that to the chef.”
He chuckled. “You
are
a delight, my dear. I am going to enjoy having you in my stable.”
Stable. Like a cow or a donkey. “Lucky me,” I said.
“How do you feel today?”
He studied me, and I wished I knew how to fake like I was getting addicted to Sparkle Dust.
“Sore,” I said, holding up my blistered arms and broken finger. “In fact, I hurt like hell. Pain seems to be crowding every other feeling out.”
“Nothing else?” His brows arched.
“Like if I am getting period cramps or something?”
“Don’t be crude,” he admonished, examining his fingernails. He reached inside his coat jacket and pulled out his cigarette case.
I watched him open it and take out a cigarette and tuck it between his lips. He put the case away and drew out a gold lighter. He flipped the lid and lit his cancer stick. I didn’t even breathe.
He drew in a breath and blew out cloud of smoke. “I shouldn’t like to give you a lesson again. What else do you feel?”
I really wanted to tell him to fuck off, but I wasn’t interested in another lesson. Defying him would only get me hurt. I opted for the truth. “Tired. Irritated. Filthy. I could use a shower.”
He eyed me for a long moment. “Interesting,” he said at last, taking another drag on his cigarette.
I didn’t like the sound of that. I started pacing again. I needed him to think I was on my way to addiction. If he figured out I had nulls that worked against the SD, he’d cut them out of me.
Up until now, I’d been managing to distract myself from my claustrophobia by pretending the cell was just another room in a house somewhere, and keeping my mind occupied with figuring out an escape plan. But all of a sudden, I realized that my claustrophobia might be just what I needed to convince Percy I was succumbing to the SD. It didn’t hurt that Percy’s presence was smothering. The cell felt twenty times smaller with him in it. I had to resist the urge to press myself up against the wall in case he decided to burn me again.
I let myself think of the mountain, and the walls closed in around me. I broke into a cold sweat, and my head reeled. My breakfast started swirling in my stomach. I felt like I’d swallowed a half-dozen snakes. I felt the color drain from my face as I turned cold.
“So what happens next?” I asked, not fighting the shake in my voice.
“That depends on you.”
“How so?” I started to shiver, even as sweat beaded on my forehead and trickled between my breasts.
“You seem agitated, my dear. Why don’t you sit?” He dropped his cigarette to the floor and stepped on it.
“Why don’t you answer my question?” I retorted, walking around to the other side of the table. I wanted to keep something solid between us.
He linked his hands behind his back. “Perhaps we should talk later when you feel better.”
“I’m not going to feel better until I’m out of here,” I panted. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. Pretty soon I was going to start hyperventilating and pass out entirely. Percy would like me falling down at his feet. I decided to sit on the bed.
“That will happen as soon as I feel you can be trusted. As soon as you realize that you belong to me now.”
He turned away and went to the door. Luke followed him.
Percy stopped and turned back to look at me. I was huddled over, my feet dangling off the floor. My shivers had started to make my teeth chatter. He started to say something else, then changed his mind and left. Luke clanged the door shut behind them, shooting the bolt back into place.
I tried to pull back on my claustrophobia, focusing on breathing and closing my eyes and imagining I was outside.
Slowly, I pulled myself together until my shaking was just a tremble and my breathing was just a little fast.
I still had no idea when to expect the fumigation squad to come for me. My short acquaintance with Percy said that he’d want me to go through a day of desperation first. I assumed he’d translated my fear symptoms into drug symptoms. I never thought I’d be glad to have claustrophobia. Then again, if I’d not shown symptoms, maybe he’d want to expose me again that much more quickly and I’d be able to make a move. As it was, I wasn’t sure what I should do.
So I sat.
Then I paced again.
Then I sat.
Lunch came eventually. My stomach was growling, and my arms were on fire. I kept running them under the faucet, but the relief lasted only a few minutes each time.
Luke brought me my tray. He opened the door and practically slammed it onto the table, making everything on it jump. He left and returned with another gallon jug of water. He left without a word.
Even though I was starving, the thought of food made me nauseous. I lifted the lid off the tray. I’d been given a lettuce salad, steamed green beans, a BLT, and French fries. A can of Coke and a bowl of tapioca finished the meal. Not bad for prison food, but then I supposed I was getting the same things that Percy’s employees were getting. I snatched up the soda and gulped it down. Cotton stuffed my head. I needed caffeine. After that, I picked at the rest of the meal. I drank the water and hurried to relieve myself before Luke returned.
It seemed a lot longer than an hour before he came back. By that time, I’d managed to choke down about half the meal, and I’d climbed back on the bed and dozed off. I blinked at him when he walked back in, but didn’t bother to get up.
“You don’t look so bad,” he observed.
“Kudos to me. I feel like crap.”
“You should look worse.”
“I’ve got great genes.”
He snorted. “Sparkle dust doesn’t give a shit about genes.”
“What am I supposed to look like?”
He shrugged. “Red eyes, sweats, shakes, kind of shiny in the eyes.”
“I’ve had the sweats and the shakes all day.”
He frowned. “Still . . .”
I closed my eyes and sighed. “Don’t you have somebody else to bother?”
“So that’s it. You’re giving up already? Not even going to beg me to help you get out?”
“Why? So you can laugh in my face? I’ll save my sadomasochistic urges for when Percy wants to slap me around or burn me some more, thank you very much. You can go get your jollies somewhere else.”
“What if I’m prepared to help you?”
Something in his voice sent a jolt of electricity through me. I opened my eyes and sat up slowly, studying him. He glared, his jaw jutting, his entire body braced like he was expecting a tornado to rip him off his feet.