Page 10 of Claiming Sarah

I eye the red tinted smoothie critically. Nothing suspicious about it jumps out immediately, but I can’t trust a guy in a fucking skull mask who kidnaps women. My instincts scream its poison, but a sixth sense warns me if I don’t drink it willingly, he’ll find another way, and I’m not sure I want whatever is behind door number two.

I pick up the bottle, lean closer to my bound hand so it can pinch my nose, and I chug, throwing it back like Fireball. Memories surge of that night, the soft press of Z’s lips, the warmth of his hand on my hip, fingers pressed into my neck.

I snort a laugh. I must be sick for reminiscing about the guy who more than likely kidnapped me. Some of the thick smoothie splashes on my chin and drips onto my collar. Oh, well, I keep swallowing down the strawberry-flavored smoothie.

A full feeling settles in my stomach less than halfway through the thick drink, so I set the bottle down between my legs. I look around at my pitiful surroundings and wonder if this is the moment I should pray. Death stalks every corner of life, but you see it more often in healthcare.

Jaded, I turned from my faith a long time ago, not evenbothering to raise Lauren in the church like my mother did for me. Tears swim in my eyes, clouding my vision. I sniff them back, hoping against everything that my baby girl is safe, and that Xavier didn’t prove me wrong.

Two minutes. Two minutes is all it took to sum up his personality and to see the appeal Lauren saw. That fanatical, obsessive gleam in his eyes acted like a flame to a moth—my daughter. My chest constricts with all the things left unsaid between us.

I can’t help but wonder if I did the right thing, leaving her with him, but the sounds coming from their room left little to the imagination. The kisses and touches she returned in front of me painted a more vivid picture than words ever could.

If the masked bastard harmed Lauren, I pray Xavier finds me and kills us both. Her light, her warmth, her smiles that greeted me every morning that I put in the effort to chase the shadows from her eyes, were my everything. I do not want to be in a world she isn’t in.

Staring at my shackled ankles, the room wavers, feeling as if I’m sinking into my thoughts, threatening to drag me under. I fight the feeling, eyes widening when I realize it’s a familiar sensation. Ativan. Slumping against the wall, I recall feeling this before, déjà vu attacking me.

Fuck.He did drug me.

8

TASTING HER

ZAIDEN

My feet trudge up the stairs, wood creaking beneath my weight. Dr. Bell continued to sleep well past three hours, her pixelated form on the surveillance cameras calling to me. Resisting the voices demanding I go to her, I decided her slumber signaled I should join her and get some shuteye as well. Separately, of course.

Pieces of wood crumble beneath the hand I trail along the bannister. I should fix that, now that I have company.

“We’re here. Quit ignoring us.”

“Your mother wants you to join her.”

The dilapidated two story, five-bedroom home belonged to my dead mother. My eyes look up and down the hallway, walls blackened by an old fire. In a fit of hysteria, she became convinced the house was evil, deciding to douse it in gasoline and light a match. She forgot she’d left me sleeping in her bed.

“Did she forget?”

“Maybe you should’ve burned.”

The sound of my boots striking the old wood chases away the chill of my mother’s ghost and the voices taunting me. Her pall always shrouds me, and I keep myself busy to avoid falling into that well of despair. Dr. Bell is here now. She can help me keep the dead at bay, all while leading me to my half-brothers.

Pushing open the bedroom door I’d claimed as mine—not the one I used to share with my mother—I glance around, meeting the eyes of Red and Blue. They grin at me, gesturing with their hands to enter and close the door. I pull it shut, darting my eyes around for Little Brother, but he’s nowhere in sight, causing a sadness to bloom within me.

Red speaks first, lips stretched wide in a mimic of the Joker. The three of us share the same scars, extending nearly to our earlobes.

“Mom, look!” I shout, ignoring the blood staining my collar, racing down the hall to her room, throwing the door open.

I pause, tilting my head and dropping the knife. The man on top of her jumps off, staring at me wide eyed.

“Oh, my God, Zaiden! What have you done?” she screams, scrambling off the bed and rushing toward me. The strange man in the corner makes my fingers itch to pick the knife back up. Instead, I turn to my mom, letting my lips pull up into a bloody smile, the pain not bothering me.

“Mom, why so serious?” My hands come up to cup her face. “Let me put a smile on that face.” Horror descends over her features, pale skin whitening to an alarming color.

Red shatters the memory, rising from his crouch on the floor.

“She’s here. Why are you up here with us? Go be with her.”I scowl at his words, bringing my hands up to pull the hot mask off, tossing it to the floor. I want to be with her, craving it with every molecule of my body. But she’d neveraccept my touch now that I’ve plucked her from her life. But before I can say that, Blue speaks up, abandoning his position on the edge of my bed to walk toward me.

“He’s right, double-walker. Go downstairs. Taste her. She’ll like it, you’ll like it,”he urges me.

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