29. Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
Lance
I scrub at my skin until it feels like it’s going to start bleeding, but it doesn’t help.
I still have all of it inside of me, and it feels disgusting.
The past, the future, the secrets, the lies, …
the truth. It’s all at the tip of my tongue threatening to spew out like vomit.
I’m walking a thin line between daydreaming and reality as I get dressed and wander down the hall.
I can hear Roman talking to Maven, but nothing they’re saying registers in my brain.
I don’t even know when he got here. I stroll over to the couch and plop down, grateful that Maven is here as a buffer, even if I’d rather not be around Olli right now.
I stare out the window, but there’s nothing to focus on aside from the clouds.
I’ve spent so much time in my own head over the past couple of hours that I’m starting to feel like I belong in an institution.
Anything is better than the thoughts in my brain right now, so I try to zero in on his words.
“It’s a ten-minute walk there. I doubt they can empty out five shipping containers that fast.” Roman says sarcastically from where he’s perched in the office chair.
“That would be the case if all of them except for one wasn’t empty.” Maven retorts just as snarkily.
I smirk before wagging a finger at him. “A set-up. Clever.”
“I’m well aware,” he mumbles. “I’m going to head down to the diner across the street.
Order a coffee.” He explains as he grabs a mic and hands it to Roman before grabbing another and tossing it to me.
I fumble it, nearly dropping it to the floor.
I let out a relieved sigh before slipping it in my ear.
Roman pushes his back onto the desk. “I gotta go get a drink from the vending machine and take a piss before we start this shit.” He says as he stands up and heads toward the door.
Maven rolls his eyes as he opens up one of the boxes, turning on the mic before shoving it in his ear. There’s the telltale squeal from them being too close to one another before I reach up and smack the button to turn mine off.
“Ow,“ I groan as I glare at Maven.
“I’m heading downstairs. Tell Roman that we need to check our connection before I get inside the diner. Olli will be with me at the restaurant, but he will be staying behind when I head to the containers.”
“You act like Roman doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing or something.” I mutter under my breath as I lean back on the sofa, tucking my hands behind my head.
“I wouldn’t have chosen him to come here if I didn’t think that he could do the job.”
“And why am I here?“ I ask as I turn to glare at him again. It’s a valid question that I still don’t fucking understand. I don’t belong here. I don’t.
He tilts his head in curiosity. “Sometimes there are people with pieces of their soul so shattered that only a person with a special kind of touch can hold them together again.”
Seriously? My brows pinch together in frustration. “Why do you always have to talk in riddles and shit when you’re asked serious questions?”
“It’s poetic. He’s saying that Roman wouldn’t be able to function if he were here and you weren’t. Now, we have to go.“ Ollivander says as he gestures for Maven to head toward the door. Sneaky little fucker. I didn’t even hear him come in.
“You’re wrong,” I blurt out. “Roman doesn’t care about anyone but himself.” I reply as I turn my face toward the ceiling.
“And you need fucking glasses if you’re that goddamn blind.“ Olli retorts over his shoulder as he opens the door.
“What do you fucking know? Roman just thinks he wants me. He doesn’t know shit about me. And I don’t know shit about him either.”
“Say that again, pretty boy, and I’ll show you exactly what I know about you.“ Roman growls in reply, causing my face to snap in his direction.
Sometimes the truth hurts, asshole.
“You,” I say as I point to Olli. “You are dead.”
“Maybe this is exactly what the two of you need,” he replies confidently. “A little bit of fucking communication.”
“Out. Now,” Roman demands as he pushes the door open wider, not taking his eyes off of me.
I let his intense stare fuel the anger inside of me until I’m on the verge of exploding.
I choke it all down, locking it away with all the other bullshit I’ll never be able to do anything about, because none of it even matters.
I got what I wanted, didn’t I? I was sure that I was talking to the same person, but Roman, he’s still on both sides of the fence.
I know because he’s been sending sweet messages to my phone all day as SeeYouClearly.
He’s probably wondering why he’s not getting replies anymore.
Why his best friend, his soul mate, isn’t answering him.
He’s probably itching inside with anxiety over his entire world being flipped on its head.
It sucks, doesn’t it, Roman? Trust me. I know.
Wanting to reach out for someone just to realize that you don’t even know who they are anymore.
Craving someone’s comfort when they’re the very reason you’re in distress to begin with.
Spending days, weeks even, unable to sleep without the comfort of someone that’s keeping you at an arm’s length.
Or a football field’s length, rather. Wanting to lay everything on the line for someone, give everything to them, just to realize that you’re not their only person.
“Don’t get distracted.” Maven demands as he waves Olli from the room and follows behind him. “You have all weekend in this hotel to handle personal matters. We only have tonight to execute this plan. If they catch onto our strategy, we might not be able to get ahead of them next time.”
“Aye aye, captain.“ Roman replies as he shoves the door closed.
“Care to explain what the fuck that was about?”
“Nah, I think I’m good.” I reply as I lean up and push off the couch.
Water droplets splatter against the concrete periodically, slowly dragging my brain back to consciousness.
Something tickles my nose, so I scrunch it up instinctively.
When that doesn’t work, I try to reach up and rub it.
I don’t notice that my hands are shackled until the chains pull taut, keeping me from scratching my nose.
I slowly peel my eyes open, trying to piece together what’s happening.
I go to move my hand again, the chains clanking against each other as I lift it as far as I can.
I glance to my other hand, and it’s also restrained, but with even less slack than the other.
Without even trying, I notice that my hips are bound to the chair beneath me, and the shackles on my ankles are much more uncomfortable, so my brain registers those much quicker than it did with my wrists.
I lean down to rub my nose on my shoulder before cataloging the room.
My first thought is that I’m in the basement, but while it’s looks similar, it’s not the same.
The first thing I notice is a window on the far wall and there’s a furnace that’s blazing just a few feet in front of me.
This close, the heat radiating off of it is almost unbearable, causing my skin to itch.
My brain is so foggy that the panic hasn’t even started to override my actions yet.
I’m just… floating. Through my bleary eyes, I can see that someone is at the door, leaning out as they talk to another person.
I try to call out for them, but my mouth is so dry that I have to pause for a second just to gather enough saliva to get my throat to work.
“Help,” I rasp out through the silence.
The person turns to me, their face lighting up.
For a second, just a second, I think that maybe I’m going to be saved.
That whoever this person is, they’ve come to rescue me.
I almost smile as I lift my hands as high as I can, showing them why I need their help.
She gives me a mocking glare as she steps closer, looking down at my wrists with pride.
Someone, a man, follows behind her. I have to wait for clarity to return to me, both in my eyes and brain, before I realize that I know the woman in front of me.
Her heels clack against the concrete as she walks over to the furnace and pulls open the cast iron door.
The flames flicker, sending embers flurrying around like snow.
She leans over, grabbing one of the pokers and pushing around at the coals inside the fire.
More embers fly around the room, slowly cooling to ash all over the floor.
“You may be leaving us today, Lance, but we wanted to give you a parting gift. Something to… remember us by.”
I turn my attention to the person that was walking behind her, realizing that it’s not who I thought it was. It’s not my mostly absent father. It’s Blaine. He gives me an apologetic once over before returning his attention to our mother.
She shoves the poker into the coals and leaves it behind as she starts to walk back to the door. “Check his restraints. Make sure they’re all tight enough.” She throws over her shoulder as she steps outside of the room.
Blaine rushes over, pushing my hair from my face.
“Jesus fuck,“ he hisses as he falls to his knees. “They drugged you, didn’t they?”
My throat is still dry and scratchy, so I nod to agree.
His fingers fly over my restraints, double checking that everything is how it’s supposed to be.
I can’t even be mad at him for doing it either, because I know that if he didn’t, then she’d just replace me with him.
There are daylight slivers creeping in through the window, so I should be leaving here in just a few hours.
If that’s the case, I need Blaine to stay on her good side so that he can watch out for Gatlin.
I don’t need him making waves for me. Not now.