and rolled across the hard floor. Nothing felt real. My body was detached from everything and still stuck in the dark.
Not a hint of light shown through.
“Colt?” My voice croaked painfully. “Water.”
I couldn’t figure out where I was. What had I done?
Why did Colt leave me here?
I kicked my leg at the darkness, but it didn’t hit anything until it reconnected with the ground.
Endless.
I couldn’t even tell if my eyes were open. Maybe I wasn’t really awake. It was so hard to tell as the cycle of nightmares and waking to darkness continued.
Something clicked—I could feel the sound in every nerve—and a blinding light invaded.
Tank pushed open the door, a bottle of water in his hand. I squinted against the light but reached for the bottle. Water. Life.
My head swam.
Tank drew the bottle back out of my reach. “No, no. I get something first. Take off your shirt.”
I inched away from him, huddling into a corner, and shook my head before I fully considered it. I was so thirsty, painfully thirsty. But with my shirt, he’d take other things.
Tank shrugged and stepped back.
“No,” I croaked. I desperately didn’t want him to leave me in the dark again. “Bathroom?”
He kicked the metal bucket with the heel of his foot, then backed toward the door again.
“No,” I reached for him. “Dark. Thirsty.”
“Shirt,” he replied, holding out his hand.
My hands twisted at the fabric of my shirt, and Colt’s voice echoed in my head. “Stay alive.”
Stay alive.
But what if he didn’t get me out? What if Devlin ruined me and Colt didn’t care anymore?
Tank reached into his pocket and pulled out something small, shaped like a pen. He tossed it, and it landed in my lap.
“You might want to preserve the battery,” he snorted.
I twisted it and a beam of light shined up to the ceiling. Light.
I was so thoroughly engrossed by it, I didn’t notice Tank leave.
Hours.
Days.
I had no concept of time except for the rise and fall of consciousness and the building storm in my body. Hot and cold, it reached out with claws, pulling my conscious back inside and trapping me in bars made of hot iron and sandpaper—my own bones and skin.
Boiling hot, burning lava. Is this what dying feels like?
I needed water but had no voice. A black hole had formed in my stomach, slowly twisting and pulling my insides into an unknown, shrinking, oblivion. However long they’d left me to rot in hell had taken me long past hunger and thirst.
Turning on the flashlight, I kicked my foot at the heavy door until the light came on beyond it.
Tank entered again with a blurry bottle of water. “Remember the deal?”
“Please,” I whispered. My body refused to move. Even with Tank standing over me, his feet inches from my shoulder, I couldn’t focus on his form.
“Thirsty?” he asked.
I thought I managed a nod.
“You gave your whole body to Colt for money—”
That wasn’t it. That wasn’t it at all. Freedom. Colt held the promise of freedom.
“What will you give me to keep you alive?” Tank knelt next to me, holding the bottle of water over my head. Out of my reach. “You’re just a whore who’s too stupid to realize it.”
No. I was Colt’s. I belonged to him. Belonged….
So long I had wanted to belong somewhere, and now it took on a totally different meaning. Brothers using me to fight for control. Pulling me back and forth. Dragging me deeper.
Could I get any deeper after this?
“You think Colt gives a damn what happens to you?” I thought I saw a smirk through the hazy confusion. My battle amused him.
“Please,” I begged again, but my throat was so dry, I coughed and gasped until my choking turned into heaving.
I wasn’t even sure I was capable of whatever Tank wanted.
Tank twisted the bottle cap free. “Colt’s little slut is so thirsty. What would he think of you right now?”
He pressed on my chin, opening my mouth, then he spit. I flinched, but there was nothing to stop it as the thick liquid ran down my tongue, while he held my jaw still. I tried to purge it out of my mouth. I wanted to vomit, but I had nothing left.
Tank put the lid back on the bottle, and I grabbed his ankle as he stood. Rolling to my side, I pushed myself up and with my final bit of strength, pulled my shirt over my head. He ripped the shirt out of my hand but gave me the water. I twisted off the cap and took a long swig. It didn’t come close to soothing the fire in my throat, but it washed away his taste with its own sweet and perfect coolness.
With a snort, Tank withdrew to stand next to the doorway as Devlin entered.
“Hold out your arm,” Devlin said.
My eyes took in the syringe held tightly in his hand. I shook my head, so he smacked the water out of my hands. It splattered on the floor, spilling my precious liquid everywhere.
“No,” I croaked, jumping toward the puddle. Mine. I needed it.
Life. I had to put out the fire in my chest.
Devlin pushed me into the puddle, then poured the rest of it over my face. “Didn’t my brother teach you anything about listening?”
“Please.” It seemed to be the only word I knew anymore. Despite its limited effectiveness with Colt, it didn’t faze either Tank or Devlin. I didn’t want more drugs. I didn’t want to be lost to the world. Lost to whatever they might do to me.
I wanted to be aware—as sucky as that might be. I wanted to be able to fight them somehow. But I also wanted water so fucking bad.
Devlin backed away. “You’ll do what we say, one way or another.”
Stay alive.
I stared down at my arm. At the large blue vein he was using to poison me.
Devlin nodded to Tank who then slipped out of the room and returned with a fresh bottle of water.
“Arm,” Devlin said.
How much would I have to give up to survive? Was it worth it?
I slowly raised my arm, squeezing my eyes closed to hold back the tears I wasn’t sure I could even produce. The band tightened around my arm. Then, a pinch.
God, no. I swallowed, bracing for the incoming wave.
He ripped the band off my arm, taking my sanity with it, and leaving me falling… back into the dark oblivion.