Page 3 of The Lies We Believe

When I next opened my eyes, I couldn’t breathe. The world rocked like I was at sea in a storm, moving back and forth, back and forth. I tried to move my heavy limbs, but the straps held me down. My heart pounded in my chest, fighting to be free, while tears dripped down my face into my hair.

Screams filled the air. The music cut out and a bright light blinded me. I squeezed my eyes shut, and bile coated my tongue as I finally sucked in a breath. Intense relief flooded my body for a second as sweet, sweet air filled my lungs.

“Fuck! Run!”

Pain exploded in the back of my head as it hit something sharp, and blackness engulfed me once again.

“How is he looking?”

“He’ll come around soon. Should be ready for questioning in a few hours. Start with the others and see where you get.”

“Alright. Get him dressed when he’s with us and leave him in room five. I’ll get to him if I have time. If not, Ba—” A door closed, cutting off their conversation with a resounding click.

Sensation slowly came back to my body, but it was like moving through quicksand, and I hated it. My brain was trying to burst out of my skull, with every little movement only intensifying the pain. I tried to peel open my eyes, but the light made my gut churn until I lost the battle and vomit prised my lips apart, covering me and splattering on the floor.

“Oh, for god’s sake. Fucking junkies.” The door banged against a wall, and heavy footsteps moved into the room as another wave purged itself from my body. “Get this on me, and it’ll be the last thing you do, whore.” Rough hands grabbed my wrists and wrenched me up so hard, blackness claimed me again.

The cold metalfelt good against my flushed skin and held my head up when I couldn’t. Didn’t have the strength anymore. My eyes pulsed with their own heartbeat, and the sound of blood whooshed in my ears. They had chained me to this table for what felt like days, but it was probably only hours. My mouth tasted like ass, like someone had stubbed a cigarette out on it. Wouldn’t be the first time.

I cracked an eye open and stared at the two-way mirror opposite me. I knew they were watching me, discussing me. They thought I was some fucked-up junkie, but I wasn’t, even though it might seem that way. Especially if they’d run a drugtest on me after the hotel. But I didn’t really remember anything past being in that laundry room.

Alone and in itchy, ill-fitting scrubs, there wasn’t anything I could do but wait. Three different men had been in here to talk to me but lost their shit when I didn’t answer.

Didn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Couldn’t.

It didn’t matter to them; they thought I was purposely standing in the way of their investigation into trafficking and Black Dahlia. I wasn’t, not intentionally. I just couldn’t communicate with them on their level, and they despised me for it.

My throat was raw after throwing up so much. All I wanted was a drink of water to wash the acidic taste away, but that never came. I didn’t know if the other guys were here or if it was just me. I didn’t know if they were going to charge me or not.

I didn’t know anything.

I hated my life.

Footsteps echoed outside my door, then paused as the handle turned with an ear-piercing whine. Did they leave it like that on purpose to make people uncomfortable? It fucking worked. My skin crawled at the sound, and bright light burst behind my closed eyelids. A wave of nausea rolled through my empty stomach, the muscles clenching hard around nothing, making tears burn at the back of my eyes.

The air moved as the door swung open, warmth invading the room. The fresh scent of sunshine and salty waves washed over me, and my heart skipped a beat. A phantom memory tickled the edges of my mind, but I shoved that back into its box and buried it.

“Right, then, shall we get started?”

I’d heard the same words a dozen times already, but awareness prickled across me. The chains grated against the table as I pushed myself up. The room wavered in front of me, but my mind latched on to one sky-blue eye and another the color of the deep, dark woods.

He was a dream. A vision. A ghost.

He was everything I’d ever wanted, and that scared me more than death itself.

Folders crashed to the floor, creating a cacophony of sound that vibrated through me. I clenched my jaw as he fell to his knees with a resounding thud, a giant redwood on the forest floor.

“R-River?”

My dead heart leapt at the sound of his voice. Any resilience I thought I’d had to the delusions my mind created shattered, and tears flowed down my cheeks. “B-Bane?” I rasped, my unused voice dragging across broken glass as it clawed its way out of me, wrenching each sound from my shattered soul.

CHAPTER 2

RIVER

---