Page 75 of Something Borrowed

Whatever it takes.

I only realize I haven’t eaten or slept when I get dizzy with exhaustion and hunger.

It’s been almost thirty-six hours since I last saw Verity. Thirty-six hours and I’ve found nothing that might lead me to her.

But I’m no good to anyone in this state. I must sleep so that I can clear my head and start again in a few hours.

I push away from my desk and in a fit of rage I almost smash my laptop.

“Where the fuck is she?” I scream and it echoes through the penthouse.

Staggering, I walk to my bedroom and collapse onto the bed.

Dark visions haunt my dreams, intensifying my anger.

Masaccio is standing over Verity, smirking. The gun in his hand catches the light when he lifts it and points it at her head. She’s on the floor, her legs folded to the side. She lifts her hands up over her face and cries out in fear.

I try to run towards her, but my feet at sinking in thick black liquid. An oily, unforgiving syrup that is creeping up my legs. “Verity.” I scream.

They are moving further away from me. Masaccio turns to look at me and his eyes are empty socks. Black holes of nothingness.

“For the family.” He says, his voice robotic and his movements stiff.

His finger squeezes against the trigger and a sharp snap pulses through the air when the bullet fires from the gun.

Time moves slower. I can see the air moving, leaving a spinning trail behind the tail of the bullet as it arches towards her skull.

“Verity.” I scream again but now I’m underwater.

When I open my mouth, the liquid pours into my lungs and I can’t breathe.

I’m drowning. Kicking against nothing. The surface is so far above me I will never make it in time.

I reach up, towards the piercing rays of light stabbing into the dark blue endlessness around me.

Shadows swim beneath me.

I can’t see her anywhere.

I can’t escape.

“Verity.” Her name falls from my lips and I find myself in my bed, sitting upright, sweat pooling off me.

My legs tangle in the blankets, and my pillow is soaked through with perspiration and dried blood.

I rub my eyes I try to push the nightmare away.

Masaccio’s empty eyes are clear in my mind.

Kicking the blankets away I look at the time. Three hours. I slept for three hours. It’s too long.

Anything could have happened to her during that time and I wasted it.

Shower. Eat. I have to keep moving.

The ice cold water hits my skin and makes every muscle in my body tense up. It pulls me awake though. That’s all I need.

Blood washes away from the wound on my skull, running in dark red streams over my naked skin, down onto the stark white tiles of the shower floor. It swirls and pools and then slips away, down the drain.

---