Page 29 of Sink With Me

“Do you have any more demands?” My foot taps the floor impatiently, only it’s not just my voice urging her, it’s something in my chest wanting to align with her back. Close enough that I know she can feel the heat I’m radiating. I focus on the nape of her neck barely exposed by the damp hair tossed over her shoulder. She stands frozen for what feels like an eternity. It’s been so long since my hands have felt like they’re itching for action, hovering subconsciously over the empty sheath of my knife. I could just step closer. I could feel her skin beneath mine—

She clears her throat, pulling me from my thoughts to realize I’m now not even a foot away from her, her chest tight and high.

“Demands…” she falsely ponders on my question with a coy grin. “Something sharp and pointy. Preferably, oh, I don’t know, a knife?”

My blood pressure skyrockets, my hand slamming beside her head, rattling the glass, yet she doesn’t budge. Even as I lean down to eye level, she remains motionless, glaring at me like a stubborn, petulant, insolent fucking child.

“You wanna finish what you started?” I mumble. Her lip's part, making it impossible to draw my eyes away from the movement. Even if she looks composed, I can hear her breaths become shallower than my own.

My jaw ticks in the rhythm of her thumbs, their reflection clear to me as they motion behind her back. I want to pull away, I need to put some distance between us, but the memory of how her cold lips against mine as I gave air back into her lungs has me wondering what they’d feel like warm and allowing me to steal her breath instead.

“I could say the same for you. I’m sure one of your criminals can finish it if you don’t have the guts.” She tilts her head and bats her eyes. I snarl, straightening my stance and turning my back to her. “At least my organization isn’t in the habit of pulling unstable people from the closest secure prison.”

I shake my head, placing my hand to my chest, thumping the button. Calm, cool, collected.

“Eat something, or so help me you will die of starvation.” I’m not arguing with her about who’s tried to kill who or whose team is better. There’s no sense in wasting my breath on someone so utterly fucked up.

“Is that a promise?!” She laughs in response, her voice loud enough to vibrate through my entire skull. My shoulders flex and my teeth clench.

“I’m sure you’ll find out.” I call back, with a smile plastered on my face as the metal door slams shut. I lean my head against it, my eyes closed.

I got the last word.

Date: 5-9-2024

Time: 2355

She’s going to drive me fucking insane.

Not once does she move from that blasted chair; she doesn’t eat, she hardly sleeps, she just stares out that window. All day. I can hear her stomach growling over the microphones, yet she stays completely still, eyes heavy and head nodding to her chest every time her body tries to shut down. Moe got her to eat a pickle yesterday, but that’s it. It was just one plain dill pickle.

My threat was hollow, and there was a very real chance she was going to starve if I didn’t figure something out. I know it’d be nothing to just storm into her room, have Sam pin her down—I’m sure he’d like a rematch—until I can force her mouth open and make her eat, but I don’t want that. I want her to submit to me. Obey me whilst she remained under my jurisdiction. Whether she likes it or not, she’s not leaving, especially since there’s been no sign of her team rushing to rescue her as if I would willingly let her go anyway.

It’s actually rather pathetic that not a single distress signal has been sent out, not a bargaining chip thrown my way, a plea on the news channel, absolutely nothing. I know she’s more than a pawn and although her role still evades me, I believe it warrants a little more panic over her disappearance. I thumb at my pretty scar. Does little Mr. Dutton Stabler not care to know her whereabouts? I massage my temples to relieve some

“Still no answers on what happened with their ship?” I lean on the back of Sam's chair making it creak. He’s focused on his own set of monitors, searching through Bay databases for anything that could give us a lead. I look ahead to the larger screens on the wall of the room, mirroring his view for all to see. He clears his throat, leaning back and running his hand through his hair.

“I didn’t know you were still awake, Cas.” With one hand on the mouse, he organizes the array of open files so I could clearly follow.

“Yeah, I’m surprised myself.” No, I’m not, I haven’t been able to sleep for nights, between the images behind my eyelids and the woman I feel compelled to watch at all times, it evades me like water sneaking between closed fingers.

“The tech team should have some answers tomorrow. They’ve spent the last few days just pulling any pieces they could.” His nose still has a gnarly split across it, with two black eyes and parts of his neck a shade of violet, he still looks as if he could blow his top at any moment. Of course, I explained the situation to him. I think his ego was hurt, even though I suggested that her adrenaline was high or else she probably wouldn’t have been able to inflict that much damage. It was a lie, but hey, after drilling into him about Moe, I wanted to save his pride at least a little.

I nod in response. At least we’re getting somewhere. My attention is pulled to my siren, her image imposed in the bottom corner of the screen, drawing her knees to her chest. Looks like she couldn’t fight off the sleep anymore.

“What’s got her freaking out? It’s not like she’s been tortured here. If anything, she’s tortured us.” Sam grumbles, clearly still upset about his defeat. I press my fingers into my lips to keep myself from smiling, but I know he sees it erupting.

“Just watch the cams and make sure she doesn’t bite me, alright?” I swallow down a laugh as I stand to my feet and make my way out of the room. I fell too hard in my role, wiping away typical human emotions, replaced with the crushing responsibility of leadership. For a long time, I felt as though I couldn’t display any cracks in my armor lest my subordinates think I was incapable of the job. Now it’s a struggle to wipe the jovial grin from my face.

It’s a choked cry that finally has my smile fading and my feet moving faster until I’m barging into Cordelia’s room. She stands hunched over with her hand clutching at her chest. It’s different seeing her up close again, instead of watching a screen two stories above me. My hands roll and stretch, aggravated at the thought of something outwith my control causing her pain.

“Wanted a front row seat to the show?” Her voice is nasally, it’s obvious she’s been sobbing.

I take my time as I remove my gear and toss it into the hall. It’s no secret she wants to kill me, but if she’s going to do it, I won’t be embarrassing myself by letting her use my own weapons. Gently, I close the door behind me, blocking out any dim light from the hall and letting the room be blanketed in the almost darkness. I open up the radio line.

“Turn the cameras off.”

It crackles, then I hear back. “Sir, we can’t monitor the situation if we—”

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