Page 116 of Commit

Hearing Hudson’s words said so casually tore me apart. I don’t know how I managed to keep it together when he walked into the room or when I woke up later with him beside me.

I knew he was planning something that involved going back to the school. So I waited for him to leave and started making my own plans.

I ate the food given to me, even though it tasted like cardboard. After I pretended to be asleep, I accepted the bag someone had left for me. I got dressed and told the doctors I was leaving before I handed a note to the charge nurse to give to Hudson.

I took a cab back to the house, and once I was sure Hudson wasn’t there, I went inside and packed another bag with things I would need and things I couldn’t leave without. Fighting back tears, I took a few pain pills and left my phone on my bed along with the Kindle. I didn’t want anything he bought me. It all felt tainted now.

That didn’t stop me from stealing one of his cars, though. I picked a BMW I hadn’t seen him drive yet, hoping he wouldn’t notice it was missing for a while. I texted Landon to tell him I was on my way and not to say anything to Abbot.

I don’t hang around, knowing that’s just asking for trouble. I take one last look around the empty house and silently say goodbye before jumping in the car and taking off. I know Abbot probably won’t listen or forgive me, but I need to explain my side before I walk away. I can’t be near him anymore if he can so easily throw me away.

As for Hudson… if I ever see him again, it’ll be too soon.

I let my anger mask how heartbroken I am. I swore I wouldn’t let myself catch feelings for the man for this very reason. And now here I am, bawling my eyes out to Alanis Morissette in a stolen car.

I take the wrong turn twice and get turned around even more times than that, but eventually, I make it to Boston just as a light rain begins to fall. I park the car and get out, leaving all my things inside where they’re dry. I look around for Abbot’s car, but I don’t see it. I jog over to the building’s door and look for Landon’s name on the buzzer panel.

A noise behind me makes me turn. But before I can see what it is, something hits me hard in the side of my head, making me fall to the ground.

My body is already one giant bruise. When I land, I cry out, pain overwhelming me, before I’m picked up and tossed in the trunk of a car. I fight to stay conscious, but a second blow to the head knocks me out cold.

I drift in and out of consciousness, unable to hold on to it before it slips away again. At some point, I must’ve been sick because I can taste the acrid burn of vomit in my mouth. I try to move, but my body refuses to cooperate. When I try to lift my head, black explodes behind my eyes, and I puke again before drifting away into the darkness.

The next time I wake up, my head feels like it’s going to burst, but the pain helps me focus. I don’t risk moving my head again. I concentrate on what I can see in front of me, which isn’t much. It’s so dark that I can barely make anything out.

I’m lying on something soft—probably a bed. The room sways, making my stomach churn. I turn my head a little, groaning at the pain, and see a sliver of light peeking through the closed drapes.

I wish the room would stop swaying for five goddamned minutes so I could figure out what the hell is going on when I hear the sound of a seagull.

A seagull?

I try to roll, but my hands are tied tightly with rope. Now that I’ve noticed it, I can feel it cutting into my skin. My legs aren’t tied, though, so I swing them over the edge of the bed and try to sit up—try being the keyword. The room spins, and I fall back, everything still moving around me.

I hear the seagull again, and then I get it. The swaying. It’s not me.

I’m on a boat.

Oh God, I’m on a boat. What the hell is happening?

The door swings open, making me scream as it crashes against the wall. A man dressed entirely in black walks into the room. He’s wearing a creepy, old-fashioned gas mask with dark lenses over his eyes, so I can’t see them.

I try to scramble back, but my tied hands make it difficult. Before I know it, the man’s on top of me, his weight pressing me into the bed. I scream and struggle, pain be damned, but the man covers my mouth with his gloved hand.

“Hello, Starling,” he says. His voice is deep and robotic, so I know he’s using some kind of voice changer. But why?—

Fear washes over me, my eyes widen in terror as it hits me. He laughs, knowing I’ve figured it out. He’s not hiding who he is so I can’t identify him. He’s not planning on letting me go. No, he’s hiding his face and altering his voice because I know him, and he’s not ready for his big reveal yet.

“You always were smarter than people realized.” He dips his head, those round lenses burning nightmares into my brain. “I know you don’t understand, but you will. You’re a very important part of my plan. I promise it’ll all make sense soon. But right now, we need to get you ready for your role in the grand finale.”

He snaps a pair of handcuffs onto my already bound hands and lifts them above my head, securing me to the headboard. Getting up, he leaves the room. I kick and thrash, trying to yank my wrists free, but it’s no use.

A minute later, he walks back in with a tray full of items I can’t see from here. He places the tray on the floor near the foot of the bed. Pulling out two more sets of cuffs, he snaps one around my ankle, despite me screaming at him and trying to kick him away. He secures my leg to the bed frame before doing the same to the other.

Thank God I’m still fully clothed. I don’t think I can go through all that again.

Happy with how he’s positioned me, he lifts the tray and settles between my legs.

“What the fuck do you want from me?”

---