Page 51 of Torment

I dreamed of Mason again, only this time we were on an island. He kept saying he was leaving, but he wouldn’t tell me why. “I have to go,” he insisted. “The plane is waiting to take me to Kentucky.”

“Don’t go,” I pleaded.

“I have to.”

“No,” I whimpered, reaching out for him. “Don’t go to Kentucky. There’s nothing there for you.”

“I know.” Mason’s voice was sharper now. Louder. “My PI told me there was nothing there two days ago. You lied.”

I realized with a start that I’d been talking in my sleep, and the last thing I heard from Mason was a real response.

I opened my eyes and tried to sit up. The sickness showed no sign of shifting, and my hands were ashen where the light caught them. Not white, but gray, like a dying person. Shivers ripped through my body, leaving goosebumps across every exposed inch of skin.

Mason was staring down at me with one hand pressed against my forehead as I struggled to move. Despite the chills, I felt his touch like it was bathed in fire. “Stop,” he said. “You’re too weak to get up yet.”

“Where’s the doctor?” I asked. I remembered him being here now. He thought I was Mason’s cousin.

“He left three days ago.”

“What?” I murmured, collapsing onto the bed again. I didn’t see how that was possible. I recalled his presence in this room as if it were only five minutes ago.

“You’ve been asleep for most of the last four days,” Mason said, retracting his hand. “You’ll start to feel better soon.”

“What happened to me?”

“You were bitten by a snake. Judging by the size and shape of the bite marks, it was a rattler.”

“How did a rattlesnake get into the cell?” I asked.

He stared at me incredulously. “You don’t remember what you did?”

I closed my eyes, trying to think, but I felt as if I were mired in quicksand. The more I tried to remember, the more I sank into confusion.

“You got out and ran into the swamp on the north side of the property,” Mason explained in a curt tone. “That’s where you were bitten. I managed to find you just in time, and I got you the treatment you needed. You’re going to be fine.”

“Oh. Thank you,” I murmured. Small fragments of my recent memories were starting to return, flittering around my brain. I remembered some sort of storm, and I remembered the feeling of mud on my arms and legs as I lay on the ground outside.

A hollow sensation filled my stomach as I recalled something Mason said a minute ago. I’d been asleep for four days now. That meant…

“Are you going to kill me?” I asked, my voice coming out in a terrified, ragged whisper. The fact that he’d kept me alive after the snakebite said otherwise, but I had no way of knowing for sure. Perhaps he wanted to kill me himself, and that was the only reason he saved me.

Mason was silent for a moment, his cool gaze assessing my feverish features. “Even though you lied to me and sent my private investigator on a wild goose chase to Kentucky, you were also unconscious for the last several days. So under the circumstances, I think I should give you some more time.”

“Okay,” I murmured, dropping my gaze. I couldn’t believe it. I’d come so close to getting away, but thanks to one nasty little snake, I was right back at square one. Mason knew my story about the cult and the backup shelter was bullshit, and I was trapped once more in his horribly isolated house.

At least he’d been generous enough to offer me more time. From what I knew of the man he’d become in the last few years, patience and empathy weren’t exactly his most prominent traits.

Perhaps he was actually worried when he saw me lying there in the swamp, and he didn’t want to admit how much it messed him up to think I was already dead. Or maybe—and this was far more likely—he just wanted the information he was certain I had, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get it if he killed me right away.

Surprisingly, the former seemed like it might actually be true as he knelt down beside me a moment later to feed me some clear chicken-flavored broth. He treated me like a delicate china doll, carefully spooning each mouthful in as if he were afraid I would break at any second. As if he hadn’t beaten me half senseless on a table only four days ago.

“Thank you,” I murmured when he pulled the silver spoon away for the last time.

“I’ll bring you more soon. You need energy,” he said. I could’ve sworn I saw a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he spoke.

I jumped at the chance.

“Mason,” I whispered. “I know you’ve said a hundred times that you don’t want to hear this, but can you just give me a chance to explain why—”

His expression hardened to granite, and a hand closed over my lips. “I don’t want to hear your poisonous excuses. Unless you have something to say about your father’s whereabouts, keep your mouth shut. Got it?”

I nodded weakly.

He rose and strode to the door. After opening it, he turned back to me, lingering on the threshold. “I’m glad the snake didn’t kill you,” he said. “But if you try that shit again, I won’t hesitate to kill you myself. Even if you haven’t given me any answers. No more chances, Jolie.”

With those ominous parting words, he left me alone.

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