Chapter 15 #2
I listened to his footsteps fade away, and the absence of him made the darkness feel even worse than before.
—
I attempted to ration the dried meat and water, but soon they were gone. Did Madame expect people to smuggle me water or did she want me to die? I could go a while without food but only a few days without water. I tried not to think about how many people probably died in this horrible cell.
It wasn’t too long after Trey’s visit that I woke up freezing.
I sat up and realized everything was damp—the walls, the floor, my clothes.
Water dripped from somewhere, and after so much silence the sound felt painful.
I huddled in my corner, damp and miserable.
A regular person would probably get sick from sitting in these conditions, and I hoped my powers would keep me from falling ill.
Gods, if I had a light, I could bear this. I tried to summon my powers again, begging any light to appear, but again nothing happened.
I started to feel like a fraying rope. The strands broke one by one until only a single strand held me together.
My entire body ached for water, and my lips were dry and cracked.
I tried to wring some of the water from my clothes, despite knowing it would probably make me sick, but there wasn’t enough.
If I screamed, would anyone hear it?
I tried to get myself under control, but maybe that last strand snapped, because the next thing I knew, I was sobbing. I wanted to grip the bars of the cell and scream and scream, but if there was anything I knew how to do, it was how to break quietly.
What would Madame do to me? How would she punish me? Would she hurt Trey? Or Apple? Gods, I couldn’t handle that. I couldn’t.
I wished Trey were here, and I hated that I wished it. I knew I shouldn’t let myself get dependent on him, but I couldn’t fucking help myself.
It took me a while to realize the darkness had begun to lighten. When I did, I tried to stuff my sobs back down so Sax wouldn’t see me crying, but I’d lost control of my own body. I settled for hiding my face in my knees.
“Bones?”
The sharp voice made me raise my head, and I met Mac’s eyes glinting in the light of the flashlight. He looked furious, as usual, but my entire self dissolved into relief.
I lunged to the bars, reaching out for him. “Mac,” I sobbed.
He crouched and took my hand, his callused palm enveloping my frozen fingers. I clung to him, and he set the flashlight on the floor so he could wrap his other hand over the top of mine.
“I brought you some food and water.” His voice was quiet, but anger still sparked in his eyes.
“Get me out,” I choked out, apparently not too proud to let Mac see me break down. “Please get me out of here.”
“We’re trying,” he promised.
I couldn’t respond, as I was too busy trying to regain control of myself. He reached one hand through the bars to feel my forehead. Did I have a fever? I didn’t think so. I was just so fucking damp and cold. He frowned.
“Your hands are like ice,” he muttered, scanning the small cell. “Do you have a blanket?”
I shook my head, and that muscle ticked in his jaw. He started to pull his hand away, and I tightened my grip in panic. He paused, meeting my gaze.
“I’m gonna give you my jacket,” he explained. “I’m not leavin’ yet.”
I released him, and he shrugged off his jacket and pushed it through the bars. Shaking, I put it on. His jacket was still warm, and the relief was immediate.
“Here,” he said, handing me a bottle of water, “drink somethin’.”
I couldn’t hold it still, and water spilled down my chin.
He reached through the bars to help me hold the bottle steady.
I drank the whole thing, the cool water like bliss on my dry, chapped throat.
He took it back when I finished, then offered his hand through the bars, palm facing up, and I clutched it tightly again.
“Nemo is pushin’ hard to get you out,” he said. “Madame’s gonna have to make a decision soon if she wants to keep the peace.”
“How’s Sam?” I asked.
“He’s okay.” He squeezed my hands.
“How long has it been?”
His face darkened. “Almost six days.”
“Mac, I can’t—I can’t do this anymore.”
“I know.” He leaned in closer to where I pressed my forehead against the bars. “So let it out, Bones. I can take it. I want you to let it all out now so when she releases you, you can look her in the eye and show her this didn’t break you.”
“I think this is breakin’ me.”
“This won’t break you.”
“I’m serious, Mac, I really can’t—” An escaped sob choked me.
“You’re a river, Bones,” he said, squeezing my hands hard to get my attention.
“You don’t break, you bend. If someone tries to control you, you find a new way around.
People might think you’re just water, might think they have you contained, but you’re strong enough to cut a path through mountain rock and wild enough to wash everythin’ away when you rage. ”
I stared at him through the tears. I never would have expected Mac to say something so beautiful.
“This won’t break you, Bones,” he repeated, his eyes flashing. “Let it out.”
As though he’d opened a doorway, my sobs broke free.
He gripped my hands as I wept uncontrollably, anchoring me through it.
He didn’t say anything else, but whenever I looked up at him, he held my gaze.
I thought the well of pain and fear inside me would never end, but eventually, the sobs began to ease, leaving me exhausted.
I slumped against the iron bars of the cell, still clinging to him as shaky, gasping sobs wracked my body every so often.
He slowly stroked the top of my hand with his thumb, and I had to fight a sudden, insane urge to laugh.
Who the hell are you, and what have you done with the real Mac? I wanted to ask.
He freed one of his hands so he could pass me a small bundle of food and another bottle of water, and then he said the words I’d been dreading.
“I gotta go back up.”
I forced myself to release his other hand and started to remove his jacket, but he caught my wrist, halting me.
“No, you keep it.”
“She’ll know you came down here if I keep it,” I worried.
Something flashed through his eyes. “Let her know.”
“Mac—”
“No, I mean it, Bones. Keep it. I’ll be fine.”
We stared at each other for a few breaths, but finally, I surrendered and he released my wrist.
“We’ll get you out,” he promised as he stood.
I nodded, my lips sealed to keep from begging him to stay. He gave me a final look before he left. I wrapped his jacket tighter around myself and attempted to engrave the words he’d given me into my mind.
You’re a river. You don’t break, you bend.