Runaway - Chapter 6
Thursday
I was mad at Matt for leaving me at the Pruitts’ apartment when he knew they were dangerous. I was mad at him for not answering my calls before the surgery. And I was mad at him for not having my back.
What was he even upset about, anyway?
Isabella was the worst. No, she probably didn’t deserve to be covered in pudding. But it was funny.
Or was he upset about my hanging out with James and Rob? I was trying to fix his friendship. Was he jealous? Was that it? Because that was ridiculous. I loved him and only him. He knew that. And just thinking about him being mad at me made me furious at him.
I’d apologized to him immediately. And his response?
That I belonged with the crazy Pruitts. That I was officially one of them.
And that stung. I’d always thought he’d seen me for me.
That my new last name didn’t define me. He’d been lying to me the whole time.
All he saw when he looked at me was my last name.
But just because I was mad didn’t mean I stopped loving him. My anger didn’t take away all the good memories we’d shared. And that we’d share again as soon as I got out of my cage.
I was going to fix us. All I needed to do was get out of here. I sat up when the nurse came in with my food.
She sighed as she saw my previous untouched plate.
“I need to talk to my dad.”
“Your father is a very busy man. You know this.”
He hadn’t been busy a few days ago when he stole my kidney.
And shouldn’t he have been recovering too?
Probably in some fancy recovery center where they didn’t lock their patients in their rooms. If he had time to do all that, he certainly had time to talk to me on the freaking phone.
“Please. Could you just call him and tell him I need to speak with him? Tell him it’s urgent. ”
“And what exactly is urgent?”
The fact that you’re keeping me locked up in here. Although, I was pretty sure she was following my father’s orders. “It’s a private matter.”
“I see. Well, I’m under strict instruction to not bother him with anything unimportant.”
“It is important.” I was pretty sure him kidnapping me was illegal. Locking me up here? Stealing organs from me? It was very important. And he couldn’t hide from me forever in his apartment, even if there were a million rooms to hide in.
“If you relay it to me, I’ll make sure he receives a message about it. But today’s not a good day.”
I just gaped at her. Not a good day? He couldn’t even bother to take a message from me? Seriously? My kidney had saved his life. He at least owed me a conversation. “It’s just a quick phone call.”
“All the arrangements had to be made immediately. Can you imagine how exhausted he is after the surgery and all that?” Her eyes grew round like she’d said too much.
“All…what?” I asked.
“If you’ll excuse me.”
“What arrangements?”
She hurried to the door.
“Wait!” I yelled. “You can’t keep me here!” I jumped off the bed, but she pulled the door closed before I could make a run for it. “Let me out!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Someone help me!”
But there was no answer.
I banged on the door. “Can anyone hear me?”
No response.
I banged on the door harder. “Someone please help me!”
But there was no response.
“Someone help me,” I sobbed and let my body fall to the floor. I slammed my palm against the door. “Please.” I let my forehead rest against the door as I continued to hit it with my palms. Someone out there had to have a heart. Please.
***
I was being lifted into the air. Someone was cradling me in their arms. I blinked but the room was pitch black.
They set me down on my bed.
“Brooklyn?” said a deep voice. A voice I recognized.
“Miller!” I wanted to hug him and cry and scream for joy all at once. I’d needed a familiar face desperately. And it was like my prayers had been answered.
“Shhh. I’m not supposed to be in here.”
I pushed myself up into a seated position. “Miller, you have to get me out of here.” I tried to climb back off the bed but he put his hand down on my thigh.
“I can’t.” His voice broke. “I’m sorry, Brooklyn, I can’t.”
I swallowed hard. “What do you mean? I never gave my dad permission to do this. He can’t keep me locked up here.
I want to go home. Please, you have to get me out of here.
” I reached out for him in the darkness.
He hissed when my hand collided with his shoulder.
It sounded like he was holding back a cry of pain.
Tears started welling in my eyes. There was only one reason why Miller would make that noise.
And even though I couldn’t see his face in the darkness, I knew.
I swallowed hard. “What did he do to you?” My dad had taught Miller a lesson recently.
And he was only just finally healing. What had my father done to him now?
“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m more concerned about you. I thought I heard you yelling earlier. But I had to wait to sneak in. Are you in pain?”
He was always way more concerned about me than himself.
“Just tell me where it hurts,” he said.
I was in pain. But not from my surgery. My chest ached every day. My heart was breaking. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. “Everywhere.”
He reached out and ran his fingers through my hair. “I’m going to go get the nurse, okay? She can give you something.”
“No. Please don’t leave me.”
“I’m not even supposed to be in here.”
“Please. Don’t go.” I caught his hand before he had a chance to flee. And I felt it. I felt what I always felt when I was around him. This undeniable sense of comfort. And it had been so long since I felt safe that I started to cry.
“Brooklyn.” His voice cracked.
“Please just stay. For just another minute.”
He squeezed my hand.
And even though he had to leave…he stayed. Because he cared about me. Because Miller did have my back.
“Just another minute,” I mumbled. I was finally tired. And a little hungry. It was like his hand in mine had restored me somehow. And I hoped to God he wouldn’t let go.