~ Go Day ~
The first day of resolution, I went back and forth with the idea of washing my shadow suit, since I had no idea if it would ruin it or not. But in the end, I decided to, because I was not putting it back on when it smelled like that.
Roman brought me everything I asked for, including an old battery-powered clock. It was one of the stolen things they’d pulled out from under Luke’s bed, I realized, which totally ticked me off. But it helped me figure out that Roman came every morning at about six-thirty with enough breakfast for both of us. And it had an alarm. That meant I would be able to get up at six a.m. and wait for him when the time came.
I hated his visits. They always left me feeling extra drained and a little sick to my stomach. I felt dirty, like I’d committed an unforgivable sin in playing friend to the enemy. But it was necessary.
And the voices. They still came. Once in the middle of the night two days after I first heard them, and then the next morning. Twice the next day. Each time was scarier than the one before. But it was during those times that my commitment to do whatever it took to get free was strengthened, because it reminded me that there was no choice. I had to get away.
The night before Go Day, I took the risk of putting the shadow suit on and having Roman unlock me long enough to pull the chain out. I was extremely careful with the movement of my arms, or course. When I tried out the suit later, it still worked, which meant that I was as ready for the next morning as I could be. So after Roman left, the last thing I did before I went to bed was set the alarm for six a.m.
I struggled to fall asleep, because, even though I was broken and felt like it didn’t matter if I died or not, I was still pretty nervous about the next morning. I tried to get myself excited, thinking about seeing my friends and Headmaster and exposing Roman. But all I could do was be scared.
I really hoped I would be able to go through with it.
* * * *
The deafeningly shrill alarm woke me up in the morning. It was loud enough that I wondered if the whole place could hear it. That’s one way to get your heart going a mile a minute when you wake up, I thought as I sat up, knowing it wouldn’t be able to slow down until my mission was complete.
I shut the alarm off and went into the bathroom, leaving the door open about a foot and a half. A splash of light cut through the darkness of the floor at my feet.
I took the thick chain in both hands and waited. My arms were tired within minutes, so I squatted down and rested my hands against the ground, still holding the chain.
As time passed, I began kicking myself for not putting the clock where I could see it. I had no idea how much time had gone by, but I was too terrified to move a muscle.
I couldn’t blow this. If Roman came in while I was moving the clock, everything would be ruined. I couldn’t handle another day in that room, worrying about the morning when I would try to get away. Because the waiting was making me as crazy as everything else was. There were so many uncertainties, so many things that could go wrong. I had to get it over with.
I knew my mind was clouded by this almost debilitating fear, but when I heard someone rattle the doorknob, I was certain it couldn’t be time yet. There was no way half an hour had passed by.
So he’s early. I’ll just get this thing over with that much sooner.
Silently, I stood back up and gripped the powerful links of steel in my trembling hands. My heartbeat thumped against my ears and fingertips. This was it.
So why wasn’t the door opening? There was a long groan of metal twisting and scraping. And then there was a crash loud enough that I jumped, clanking the chains together. My heart raced faster as I fought to quiet them down, sure I would faint at any moment.
What if it wasn’t him? Whoever was out there was early, and it sounded like the whole door might have just come down.
It didn’t matter. I couldn’t afford to hold back until I knew if it was Roman or not. Strangle first, ask questions later. I sound like a Cinder, I thought with a shudder, forcing my mind back to the crisis at hand.
“Kristine?” someone whispered. It could have been Roman. It could have been anyone. I stood ready with the chain.
Footsteps came closer. My mouth became sandpaper and my eyes became saucers. “Kristine, are you in here?”
With fear and vengeance leading the way, I reached out when I saw him walk past the door. I threw the chain around his neck in a blur of dark silver and pulled.
But one massive hand dropped the crowbar it held to grab my suit at the pants and pick me up like a ragdoll, shifting my center of gravity and slamming my head against the ground on the way up. He swung me over his head and through the air. I barely had time to process what was happening before my back was slamming against the mattress so hard it felt like it wasn’t even there.
I couldn’t breathe. My ankle hurt from being yanked so hard by the impenetrable iron that was holding it fast. My chest contracted in its failing attempt to draw breath. I reached up and feebly hit my attacker twice before he crouched down beside me.
“Kristine?” Luke choked out, his voice full of emotion.
“Luke—” I finally got out. I felt like I was drowning. Wretched coughing tore at my throat as my first agonizing breaths came. “Luke.” I sat up and leaned away, afraid my schizophrenic episodes were getting worse.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he began to cry.
“You’re dead. Roman killed you. I can’t—”
He grabbed me and forced me to kiss him. I only fought it for a second, and then I felt myself melting against him, pulling him closer, running my fingers through his dark hair, and crying with him.
He was alive. It was all a cruel lie. Luke was alive, and he was there—my rescuer—holding me in his arms again.
“Luke,” I sobbed into his shoulder as he took his lips away from mine to pick me up, cradling me as he stood.
“I can’t believe I finally found you,” he said. “I’ve been looking for days. When he was carrying you away...I was afraid you were dead.” He leaned over to kiss the top of my head twice and then hold me even tighter. “I love you so much, Kristine.”
“I love you, too.”
I clung to him for dear life as I cried over how relieved and overwhelmed I was. His noisy gasping breaths told me that he was doing exactly the same thing.
“Luke—” I said, lifting my head suddenly. “Roman will be here any minute.”
“How do you know?”
“He always comes at six-thirty. That’s why I was trying to strangle you. I thought you were him. You have to leave before he gets here.”
“Why?” He set me down in annoyance. “Why should I leave you with him?”
“Because,” I sobbed. “I can’t lose you again. I spent the last thirteen days wishing I was dead because it hurt so bad.”
“Well so did I,” he said, raising his voice. “I’m not leaving this room without you.”
“But I can’t get away. He chained me to the wall and he has the key.”
“Then I’ll wait here for him.”
“But he has a gun—”
Luke shut me up by kissing me and holding me where I couldn’t move. I was scared enough for him that I would have pushed him out the door if I could have. Anything to keep him alive.
“Get away from her,” Roman said, standing on the door that was lying flat on the floor. My worst fear became a reality as I saw the gun Roman held pointed at Luke.
“No,” I tried to move in front of Luke, but he turned boldly to face Roman and kept me back with one arm. “Why did you tell me he was dead?” I asked Roman, giving up on my fight to guard Luke.
“Because it was the only way to make you love me.”
“I told you, I’ll never love you. Luke’s the only man I love.”
“Don’t say that,” he hissed, his face twisting with fury. “You love me.”
“Get over it, Armstrong,” Luke said. “She loves me.”
Roman fixed his dangerous eyes on Luke. He cocked the gun and began moving closer. “She can’t love you if you’re dead.”
“NO!” I screamed, struggling in vain to get around Luke. “Please don’t hurt him, Roman! Please! I’ll do anything you want. I’ll run away with you. I’ll stay with you forever. Just please, don’t hurt Luke,” I pleaded, crying harder than I had all day.
“No, Kristine,” Luke said, his eyes blazing. “I’d rather die than see you end up with him.”
“I can’t lose you again.”
“I’ll let him live,” Roman said, “if you say you love me and tell your ex-boyfriend goodbye.” He was close to us now. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out the blackened key that would release me.
I took it from him when he held it out and sat down to unlock the band around my ankle.
Luke watched me, waiting for something to happen. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I would spend the rest of my life miserable with Roman if it meant his life were spared.
“Don’t try anything or Knight’s dead,” Roman said as the shackle fell to the floor.
I looked up at him anxiously. “I won’t. Just don’t hurt him.”
Roman held out a hand to me. I took it and went to stand beside him.
“Kristine,” Luke said heartbreakingly.
“You shut up,” Roman said. Then he glanced at me. “Say it.”
“No,” Luke begged me.
I locked eyes with Roman and spoke with trembling and fear. “I love you, Roman.”
He smiled and let out a sigh of pleasure. “I’ve waited a long time to hear you say that. You’ll say it to me every day forever, or I come back and kill him.”
I nodded as Luke took a step forward.
Roman pressed the gun against his forehead. “She’s coming with me whether I kill you or not. I prefer you dead, so you should think twice before you take another step.”
Luke’s eyes were truly blazing now, as he lifted his arms slowly in surrender. “She’s mine,” he said darkly. “You can’t have her.”
“Try and stop me.”
Luke’s arm struck Roman’s like lightning. There was a flash and an explosion. I screamed and fell back, realizing the gun had just gone off.