15
HER
On land again, I ran. I’d done it before. Wet, muddy, freezing. The ratty leggings and old sneakers I’d thrown on in haste were waterlogged and squelching. The remains of the canal’s contents were probably injecting bacteria into every blister on my body. But still I ran across the bare desert and into the scrim of palo verde and mesquite that shrouded the entrance to the park.
For now, I didn’t look at the phone. I’d look at it once I got inside and could slip into the trees and disappear from the cops, which were all that remained between me and him. And answers, and time, and peace, and everything else I dreamed of but wouldn’t take the time to torture myself right now by pausing to think about.
Back in the canal, for a few terrifying seconds, I’d thought I’d drown. The banks had been steeper than they’d looked, and I hadn’t counted on there being no good way to pull myself out. Plus, my body didn’t have the strength to tread water for long. I’d groped and kicked violently along the artificial banks,gasping to hold my head up and prevent black liquid from flooding into my eyes and ears until my flailing limbs at last hit a ladder and I could hoist myself gasping onto the sand like a hooked fish. Another run back toward the overpass, a few more moments of panic when I couldn’t spot the phone I’d thrown. Finally snatching it up, I was back on track. I didn’t look back to see if the cops were on my tail. I’d find out soon enough.
The park entrance, though late in the day, wasn’t exactly empty, and I got more than a few shocked looks from hikers and picnickers as I passed, my phone’s blinking blue light bobbing in my hand, my burn-ravaged face no doubt a frightening mask of panic and resolve. In the distance, the sirens still wailed, sirens some of them could no doubt guess had something to do with me. I didn’t care. I needed him, needed answers, and I wasn’t stopping to keep up appearances.
Gazing frantically around the parking lot, my eyes settled on a tiny, rusty car parked in the corner near a clutch of cholla, clearly trying to go unnoticed but all the more conspicuous for that.
A blue Datsun.Fuck. Wheatleyhadbeen onto something, and I hadn’t even bothered to hear him out.
And now he wasn’t here to help me.
I swallowed, heart pounding. Around me were ramadas and picnic tables and an oversized, glass-enclosed map set on a rustic wooden display stand, one I wouldn’t have time to look at even if Ihadn’tbeen terrible at reading maps, which I was. I turned in a circle. Around the bend, I saw the sign for a nature trail, arrows pointing every which way. Desperation surged through me as I looked down at my phone, the blinking light dancing erratically in the sunlight that had already evaporated most of the dampness of my clothing.
I took a deep breath and picked a trail I thought might lead toward his location, though it also might not. I’d find out when Iand the dot grew farther apart, and I had to come back and start all over again. Thankfully, the trail was empty and so silent that my panting echoed off the trees. I now couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched, or that someone was following me. Someone besides the police.
But what could I do?
Keep running.
HIM
“It worked, you know, sweetie,” Resi whispered, gently brushing a single lock of hair away from my temple with one manicured vanilla nail, her breath soft and cool in my ear. “The serum. Much as I hate him for it, I guess Max was right to choose you over me. You reallyarea genius.”
Despite it all—despite my entire world having been reduced to pain, humiliation, and imminent death—my heart leaped a little. But my brain wasn’t working well enough anymore to decide whether she was lying, or, if not, what she thought telling the truth would gain her. And even if shewastelling the truth, it didn’t mean Lemaya had gotten away clean, or thatanypart of my insane plan had worked the way I’d prayed it would.
And Resi had no intention of telling me.Thatwas the real torture.Thatwas what she was here to do.
Well, that, and torture me in every other way. Pain shot through every inch of my body as I hung limp and helpless from the chain. One side of my brain felt like pulp. Likely multiple ribs were broken. Some part of my leg was shattered. Arms and hands? I couldn’t see or use them. Maybe I never would again.
“Too bad I like you so much better as a slave.”
Frankly, I was expecting Resi to continue the torture in some more diabolical form. But to my surprise, she didn’t. Not yet,anyway. Her thick, brand-new cowhide gloves were smooth and supple against my skin—the nicest thing I’d felt all day—as she carefully and methodically began to unravel the barbed wire wrapped tightly around my wrists. Each movement was precise and deliberate, the metal scraping against her gloves as it fell to the ground in a series of dull thuds.
“I was giddy as a little girl on Christmas Eve last night, thinking of how pretty you’d look in these chains,” she whispered as she worked. “Ah, but that was my fault for letting you go last time. Turns out I was a little bit charmed by you. I guess I wouldn’t be the first one, huh?” Was she talking to herself now or what? “Couldn’t do much about your legs, though. Although I don’t expect you’ll be walking anywhere anytime soon.”
Her gloved fingers continued moving expertly, carefully unfastening the barbed wire cuffs wound around my clotted, rust-covered, inflamed, infected wrists. The sharp edges grazed against my skin, but as the metal fell to the sand, I couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of relief. A relief I felt even though I knew I would regret it later, and even though I couldn’t move my arms more than a few inches. Didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.
Two soft thumps in the sand revealed she’d removed the gloves. “No, no,” she said with a pealing laugh, knowing just from my squirming that I expected her to undo the collar next. “You’d try to get away, and we can’t have that.”
Well. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. But the muzzle?
“I’ve always thought someone should lock up that silver tongue of yours,” she said, reading my mind. “After all, I don’t want you biting. Or worse, have you talk me into letting you go.”
Well, there went plans A and B.
“Of course we all know who ended up with the muzzle last time, not like I want to bringherup. Anyway, I sawthisoneonline and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and they always say that’s how you know you should buy it. So I can still see your pretty face, but you’ll only speakwhatI want andwhenI want. It’s win-win, don’t you think?”
Yeah. Resi got to win twice.
“Now be a good boy and greet me properly.”
Wait, did that mean the muzzle was coming off?Yes.She unbuckled the contraption and let it clatter to the dust alongside the cuffs. Immediately, the dry, sandy air hit the weeping sores all over my mouth, my lips so weak and cracked I could barely move them.
