Page 58 of Agony

“I can’t.” Justice slowly shook his head, his mouth pulled into a sad frown, and worry filled the man’s eyes.

Panting, Fisher squeezed the metal, and his whole body shook. Memories slammed into him, but he gulped them back.

“You fucking drugged me…” Shock cracked his voice.

“I’m sorry.” Regret filled the man’s eyes.

“I don’t care if you’re fucking sorry, Justice, open this fucking door.” His voice didn’t even sound like his own any longer.

“I can’t. I need you here for the next few hours until we take care of Blue.”

“I don’t care about that right now.” He grew lightheaded. His lungs weren’t working right. “Just, just let me out of here. I can’t be in here.”

“I’m sorry.” Justice stood and walked farther away from the cage and that was when Fisher realized he was in what was more than likely a basement.

“Axel, come. Guard.”

At Justice’s command, the big dog trotted over and lay near the vacant chair. Axel was one of those police-type dogs Fisher had seen climb walls in videos but the name of the breed escaped his panicked brain at the moment.

Fuck this! He flew into motion, grabbing a bucket he spotted, and threw it with all of his strength at the bars. It hit with a bang before rolling loudly on the floor. Next was the cot, blankets and all. It cracked against the bars.

Justice had reached the door by that time and had one hand on the knob.

“Let me out! Let me out!” Fisher screamed, hating the pleading sound, hating that his whole body shook.

Justice didn’t understand.

Fisher had to make the man understand.

“I can’t be in here!”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be back.” With one last long look, Justice left the room and closed the door.

The world closed in.

It grew darker by the minute and Fisher couldn’t see himself coming back from this. Stumbling over the bedding and cot, he slipped in his own puke.

Staggering, he made it to the bars in one corner and fell on his ass.

No. No. No. This couldn’t be happening again.

His vision narrowed as his mind tried to soothe him, but he knew the horror of his reality was going to send him straight to hell.

Pulling his knees to his chest, he rocked back and forth. Lifting one arm, he bit into the skin, drawing blood. The pain was distant but enough to keep the room in focus.

But for how long?

Thankfully, he didn’t have long to wait before the blackout hit.

The next thing he remembered was Rogue pulling him out of there.

When the bed dipped beside him, Kit’s bedroom came spinning back into focus when Fisher flicked his eyes open. He stared up at the dirty ceiling.

As wary as a wild cat, Boston crawled up onto the bed to ease down beside him.

Fisher was glad for the interruption because remaining calm took considerable effort.

His heart pounded from the recollection and alcohol and weed still thrummed through his veins.

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