Chapter 29 #2
And that’s when I notice there’s more writing than just one page. The pad is covered in dark scribbles. Frowning, I pick it back up.
Hello, new swine flu? What is wrong with these people?
If they make me kill any baby bunnies, I won’t do it.
That crazy bitch? I scan rapidly through the notes. They look similar, noting down dates, times, and different events. I stop when I see my name, stomach turning to ice.
That’s all it says. Frantically, I scan the rest of the notes, but nothing else says my name. I’m panting. What does this mean? Why am I here? There’s nothing else with my name, but there are a bunch of things scribbled up the sides of the paper.
I’m a horrible person. I don’t deserve love. I am such a piece of shit. No wonder everyone hates me. No wonder everyone leaves me.
The last line is written so hard that the pen has dug into the paper, and I latch onto the last line.
He acknowledges he’s horrible.
That he’s here for horrible reasons. That he’s going to do horrible things to me.
My stomach twists, and I think I might be sick. Then flip back to the first one. He doesn’t know where he is? He has no phone?
Immediately, I kick myself for not thinking about stealing a phone from Oakley to call for help. Life has been nothing but blood, running, fear, a protein bar, and pain. Although now it seems like it wasn’t even an option.
There’s rustling at the door. Immediately, I feel like I’ve been caught looking at something I shouldn’t. Frantically, I look around, then stuff the notepad under the pillow behind me.
Oakley walks in carrying takeaway boxes and bottles of water tucked under his arm. His eyes are wide, but when he sees me, they soften.
“You’re still here,” he says softly, like he can’t believe it. He clears his throat. “The cafeteria was closed, but I got some leftovers.” Carefully, he puts a takeout box at the end of the bed where I am. It settles with a squeak.
“I also got some meds.” He juggles the other things out from under his arms, then holds out his fist, showing a handful of white pills. For a second, he stares at them, then his face flushes. “I swear they’re pain meds, I saw the bottle they came out of.”
We just sit there in awkward silence.
“Right.” He looks around, then puts them on the bed, running his hand through the hair that’s fallen in his face. “I think the dinner is some sort of beef and rice.”
I evaluate Oakley, wondering if he left that notepad for me to find or to throw me off. He’s found a shirt somewhere. He won’t look at me, cheeks red. There’s a sound in the hallway, and he jumps.
I swallow, glancing towards the door.
Oakley squares his shoulders. “Right. No one said anything to me. We’ll be okay for tonight. But it’s past ten, so everyone is here.”
I stare at the man as if that’ll reveal everything I need to know. Infuriatingly, it doesn’t. All I see is a hot man with crinkles of fear and uncertainty around his eyes.
My leg hurts, my head hurts, my ear hurts, and I feel cold with my wet hair. I probably need more water, although the food doesn’t appeal to me at all. Which is absolutely not a good sign.
Cautiously, I reach for a water bottle. Oakley doesn’t stop me or lunge at me, and the seal is still on. Snapping it open, I take a sip. The water is cooling, and I shiver, glancing up at the thermostat.
It reads seventy-five.
Fuck. I have to break this fever. But there’s no way I’m taking Oakley’s mystery pills.
When I look up, Oakley is watching me. His gaze darts away like he wasn’t. “I’ll uh, you can have the bed.”
Have the bed? Does he plan on going to sleep?
Panic grips me with vicious claws. I can’t go to sleep. Not with him.
Oakley is moving to the door, and I shift to keep him in my line of sight. He grabs an ironing board out of the closet and braces it against the door, then grabs a blanket out of the closet and lays it on the ground by the bathroom.
Between me and the door. Is he trying to prevent me from leaving, or others from coming in?
There’s another loud laugh in the hallway, and Oakley jumps, facing the door, fists clenched. When the voices fade, he turns back to me.
“I’ll find Kyan tomorrow when everyone else has left. He’ll help.” He trails off on the last part, an odd look crossing over his face. Then he blinks. “You should eat.”
Immediately, I frown.
“You have to eat to get better.” He moves toward the food, and I curl my legs up. He just pops the lid open, and I see dark meat on a bed of rice. Immediately, I wonder what kind of meat it is. He talked about killing bunnies. Is this rabbit?
Or worse… Is it human?
My stomach turns, and I gag.
Oakley’s gaze locks sharply on me.
I wave him off, feeling my skin crawl with the assessing way he’s looking at me. “Not hungry.”
There’s a moment of silence where I stare at the blankets.
Slowly, he pulls the food over to himself.
There’s the rip of plastic, then shuffling.
I glance up to see him taking a bite of rice and meat.
His gaze flicks to me, he chews, then swallows.
Then, he grabs one of the pills on the bed, pops it in his mouth, glances at the extra water bottle, and then dry swallows it.
I watch with rapt attention. He’s trying to prove to me he didn’t poison the food.
Oakley shrugs. “It’s cold, but it’s pretty good.” He looks at me a little too long. “Let me take that out.”
I stare at him.
He motions at his ear.
Oh my god. The tag. The idea of it being gone fills me with relief, but then Oakley is going for the knife at his belt.
“No.” I scramble back.
Oakley looks startled. “I have to cut it.”
I glare. “Let me do it.”
Consideration then fear flashes across his face. The face with the bruise from my rock just under his hairline. “Uh…it’ll be quick, just let me.”
I honestly didn’t even think about knifing him, and that makes me afraid. I need to think about these things; this is survival.
Oakley approaches like I’m a wild animal, eyes averted.
I don’t like it. The closer he gets, the more my skin crawls, but also the more my freedom calls to me.
When Oakley reaches to pull my hair back, his fingers brush the tip of my ear.
It’s a gentle touch. The first I’ve had in…
I don’t remember. A shiver races down my back and arms.
“I’m just going to cut the back.” Oakley leans over me, smelling of sweat and also something like leather.
He’s gentle and quick, and then with a pinch of pain, the tag is gone. Relief immediately washes over me like a cold shower, and suddenly my chest feels lighter. Freer.
Oakley backs away, and I get the horrifying impulse to cry.
I shove it back down. Oakley stands there, looking lost. Shoulders deflating a bit, he goes to his blanket on the ground.
The room is silent. What is there to say?
I wait for Oakley to start twitching or fall asleep, but with how willingly he ate the food, I know that’s not going to happen.
My body grows heavy, but there’s still that sick ache. Eyeing the meds on the bed, I know I need to take them, but I’m afraid. Of what, I’m not sure. Of needing something from Oakley? Of feeling better and falling asleep?
“I loved blue ICEEs.”
I startle, glancing up at the man on the floor. He’s staring up at the ceiling.
“You asked me about my childhood. Blue ICEEs were my favorite. I’d get one every day before playing my games. I loved gaming.”
I stare at Oakley as his chest rises and falls. “And I lied earlier. I didn’t have friends. You were right.” His face twists, and silence fills the room.
Discomfort itches in my chest. His cheeks are pink, and he’s frowning, not looking at me. It feels like he’s telling the truth. Finally.
Oakley’s voice drops soft. “I’m a shit person, but I won’t hurt you, Holli.” Then the silence stretches on again for so long that I think he’s done talking. Then, so faintly I think I might be making it up, I hear, “Not anymore.”