35. Claire
Chapter thirty-five
Claire
“Where are you taking me?” I demand, speaking for the first time since the senator practically forced me into the passenger seat of his car. I guess I should be glad it was this and not the trunk, but I still don’t trust him. What are the chances that he just showed up to the same place I was taken prisoner if he wasn’t somehow involved? And why the fuck was Addie there?
My head is spinning, my throat hurts, but the physical things are a good distraction for the fact that I feel a peculiar emptiness inside. The senator turns to look at me, eyes wide and full of some sort of emotion I can’t decipher. Maybe losing my emotions took away my ability to recognize other peoples’. Maybe he created a psychopath in that basement.
“You need a hospital.” He says, looking me over for a second longer before tearing his gaze from me and glancing out at the road ahead. I see his jaw tighten and a muscle there twitches, but he remains silent for a minute.
“I don’t.” I tell him. “I just need a shower… and a nap.” My eyes are heavy, but I know better than to let them close when I’m still in danger. Though I have to ask myself, do I care?
“You could have smoke inhalation… it can catch up to you hours after leaving the scene. And your neck…” He shakes his head, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he works hard to swallow. “Remington would kill me if I didn’t get you checked out.”
Remy.
I close my eyes for a moment, giving them some relief from the burning feeling. I wish I could cry, flush the dry, stinging feeling there, but it’s like there’s a door in my mind, like I’ve been thrown into the waiting room in my own head and had access to the rest of my brain taken from me.
“But Addie—” I wince at the word, which feels like sandpaper grinding inside my throat. “Said she’d meet you at home.”
The senator is quiet so long that I have to open my eyes to see if he’s still there… if I am. “I know.” He says, when he sees me looking at him. “But we’re not going there.”
Somewhere deep in the base of my spine, I know that something is wrong. Addie was as much a safe space for me as any person could be growing up. That’s not to say that she was motherly in the least, but she was the only constant in my ever-shifting world. Every time a new placement was made for me, it was Addie who picked me up, who delivered me to my next home, to the next family that was going to try to love me.
I learned early on that nobody could love me, but I let Rhea lull me into complacency, let myself think that someone could. This feeling now reminds me an awful lot of what it had been like the first few times I was old enough to realize what was happening… the first few times I had to say goodbye to someone I thought cared about me.
I don’t even realize my eyes have closed until a phone ringing cuts through the quiet in my mind, and my eyelids peel back slowly to see the name on the car’s monitor.
Dimitri.
When the senator hits the accept button, Dimitri’s voice fills the car. “Where is she?”
“I got her out in time. I…” I watch his fingers curl and flex on the steering wheel as he thinks through his words. “It’s bad. I mean, she’s okay, but I—”
“Claire?”
“Dimitri.” I say, just to let him know that I’m here. I can hear the rush of his breath across the line, a sound of relief .
“Are you okay? What happened? I saw the notification that you activated the tracker, but you didn’t answer your phone…”
“I…” I don’t even know how to explain the stupid decision I made to try and track down Wes all on my own.
When I’d lived in Remy’s house last summer, strutting around in skintight dresses and wearing my scars like badges of honor, it had been so easy to believe myself to be a badass. A goddess fashioned from dirt and destruction who could rise up to give back what she’d gotten from those who wronged her. Being back in class the last semester, I’d lost sight of that woman, but I still longed for her every day.
It was stupid to think that I could be her when I was only playing at her with Wes. I wasn’t in control then, no matter how much it had felt like it, because the situation was controlled. Trying to replicate that out here? Thinking that I could find Wes and use him to get to his father was asinine… and that’s to say nothing of the illusion that I thought I could go after Davos.
Honestly, the man who locked me in his basement was probably a kinder fate than whatever would have awaited me at Davos’ hand.
“Claire!” Dimitri’s voice pierces the haze of my thoughts, but I bite my lip, still not sure what to say.
“I’m taking her to Washington General. She needs medical attention. I don’t know…” His voice shakes. “I don’t know what he did to her.”
I can’t tell if the senator is shaken up by the sight of me or if he’s simply putting on a show. I don’t know this guy, and Remy hadn’t seemed to have anything to tell me of him. The fact that he’s married to Addie should, theoretically, give me some peace, but I’m too confused by it to feel any certain way.
“I’m three minutes away.” Dimitri says.
“We’re two.”
It feels like longer than two minutes, somehow, but the senator pulls up to a set of large glass doors and rushes around to my side. Dimitri is already there, opening the door and pulling me out into his chest.
“I can walk.” I say, though I’m not sure that’s true. There’s nothing wrong with my feet, my legs, but my head doesn’t feel right so I let it lay against his shoulder and allow my eyes to close as he carries me inside.
We’re greeted by someone asking questions rapid-fire the moment we walk through the doors, and I don’t know if the questions are for me or about me, but I ignore them all, drowning it all out as I let them move me around like a doll, positioning me where they need. I don’t really see the face of the woman who stands before me, shining a light into my eyes and pulling on my chin to part my mouth. I don’t really think about anything, don’t really see anything.
In my head, I’m still trying to get into the rest of my brain, to get access to myself. But all the doors are locked, and there’s nothing in this place… no hurt, no pain, no joy.
It’s a great white void.
“Why are you worried about smoke inhalation?” I hear someone ask, and I start to open my mouth to tell them I’m not worried, but someone speaks first.
“Because I pulled her out of the fire.”
“Mmm. Taken to pulling people out of burning buildings these days, have you, senator?”
I don’t hear if the senator says anything back to her before the woman disappears. It doesn’t take long for Dimitri to fill the space she left, dropping to his knees in front of me so that he can get a good look.
“Claire.” His voice is soft. “What happened?”
I open my mouth—I think I do—but no sound comes out, and then there’s something being forced over my head. I jump, clawing at the chain before it can close into a loop, but hands force mine down, pinning me in place, and no sound still comes from my throat… no cries, no pleas, no scream .
A moment later, something is pressing against my face, smothering me, stealing my breath.
The woman is in front of me again, and her glossy orange lips are moving, so I force myself to still so that I can hear her saying something about breathing. She doesn’t seem to realize I can’t breathe when I’m being smothered, but I try anyway. She has a nice face, and the Scooby Doo characters on her top make me feel oddly secure. Bad people don’t like Scooby Doo—he’s the one who stops all the bad guys.
“Good.” I hear the word a minute after her mouth turns into a smile, and she nods at me, pleased with whatever I’ve done. “You’re doing great. Keep breathing.”
So, I do. It’s all I can manage. I can’t think, can’t find the energy to move, but I can breathe. It’s a simple enough thing to do, and it pleases her the more I do it.
“Great job, sweetie.” She says, and I’m suddenly aware of her hand on my back, rubbing small circles. Without explanation, my eyes fill with tears that I blink back, and after a few moments, she pulls the strap from around my head. “I’m going to get some stuff to take care of your other injuries. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
I shake my head automatically, and she smiles and leaves the room again. It’s hard to breathe without her here—I feel like I forgot how to do it in her absence, but I don’t want to disappoint her, so I focus on taking breaths in through my nose, forcing air through my spasming throat.
God, it hurts.
“I’d like to speak with my patient alone.” The woman says as she comes back in, pushing a steel metal cart before her.
I don’t hear who objects, but someone says no, and my head turns in his direction. I’m vaguely surprised to see the senator still sitting next to Dimitri, leaning forward with his hands clasped together.
“I’m not leaving her.” Dimitri says, shaking his head .
“I wasn’t asking.” The woman’s voice is hard. “I can have security remove your ass from the whole hospital if you want me to? Or you can step outside for five minutes.”
“I—” Dimitri looks like he’s ready to fight her, but the Senator stands.
“Come on.”
Her stone fa?ade drops the minute they pass through the door, and she turns back to me with a much softer disposition. “You’re really brave, Claire, but I think you’re lying. Are you sure you aren’t hurt anywhere else?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“Did those men hurt you?”
“No.”
“Did somebody else?”
I hesitate, not sure how to answer that. “Yes.”
“Was it someone you know?”
“No.” I say, but then a random voice in my head reminds me that that may not be true. It could have been my father.
“Do you feel safe with those men in your room?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” she nods. “But you came in without clothes on, and given the nature of your injuries, I have to ask if something else happened? Did somebody assault you?”
Again, I’m not sure how to answer that. I guess it depends on what sort of assault we mean. Seeing my hesitation, she nods. “I want to do a rape kit to make sure we get any evidence we might need.”
Rape kit.
The words make my heart speed up, my stomach clench. I shake my head, trying to tell her it won’t be necessary, but she tries again. “If someone hurt you like that, we need to get the—”
“No.” My voice is a croak, cracking over the weight of the single syllable. “They didn’t. ”
I watch her swallow, looking like she wants to fight me on the matter again. “Are you sure? During my initial exam, I noticed bruising on your thighs… what little clothing you were wearing is torn. Maybe you just don’t remember it?”
“No.” It comes out unbroken this time. “I wasn’t… I just want to go home.”
The nurse manages a smile, nodding sympathetically.
But it doesn’t do anything to ease me into complacency or peace, because I suddenly realize…
I don’t even know where home is.