Page 14 of Taking Over the Dark

No. This can’t be anything. I won’t let myself fall again.

I press my lips to his, not expecting anything in return. But to my surprise, Marcello’s hand curls around the back of my neck and into the bottom of my hair, pulling ever so slightly as he takes charge, telling me to open up for him with his tongue. And I do just that.

I don’t have an ounce of panic filling me as we pull away from one another, which should probably scare me. What is filling me, though…

Lust.

Want.

Need.

A visceral need.

* Ordinary Life - The Weeknd

* WYD (with GloRilla & Big Boogie) - Moneybagg Yo, GloRilla, Big Boogie

ELEVEN

ELLINOR

I don’t know what day we’re on, and I don’t know how many more we have ahead of us if someone doesn’t find us…

?*My body feels like it’s slowly giving out on me. An ass beating would have been preferred over what the hell we’re being put through right now. The actual test is the mental game of knowing there’s no way out of this hole. We’ve searched every inch of this place; everything is covered in dust and sand. It seems to be made of metal. The only thing we can think of it being is some underground bunker… like a prepper bunker. And that doesn’t give us much hope of being found.

My mouth feels like it’s filled with powder, like dry scooping pre-workout and not having my water close enough to wash it down. I could cry just thinking about water, but my body wouldn’t be able to make tears right now if it wanted. Nash’s eyes are sunken, and the exhaustion on his face, I’m sure, matches mine. My lips feel like they’re busting open each time I take a breath, and the skin on my face feels about the same. I’m internally cringing at how bad this has to be on my body.

But we’re alive… for now.

Nash has his head leaned back on the opposite wall, and without looking up, I hear him ask, “Ellie, do you think they’re going to come for us?”

“I know Cello’s looking for us, Nash, but what I don’t know is if he knows who took us.” Whoever is out to get him puts a huge target on anyone in his orbit. Anything to get to him and tear him apart, piece by piece. I know we don’t have much longer before our organs start failing from dehydration. “Did you see anyone suspicious at the club before we were taken?”

“Nothing out of the norm, but Zamir was acting weird when he texted me.” Nash filled me in on the minutes before we were drugged and taken. I went to the bar to grab a drink, and we woke up here. I’m most surprised by no one blinking twice about my scream, which Nash said he heard, but I guess people are usually screaming in the club.

Zamir always seemed authentic to me, even when I was trying to ignore him. That’s not to say he wasn’t sent into the bar on a specific mission to get close to me for a reason. You never know people’s true intentions until it’s too late… and here I am, hoping it’s not too late. I question Nash, “What was he saying? Actually… where the fuck was he?”

“He said he needed to run home and grab something before heading to the club, but he only responded with that after I had sent a picture of you. I drove to the club on my own after Coach told us that the VIP tables were waiting for us.”

My brows pull together, trying to put the pieces together of this shit puzzle Nash and I are now a part of.

We’ve been in here for at least two days at this point. Nash and I have bonded in ways people should never have to. And the stuff we’ve seen each other do shouldn’t come until way down the line. If at all… I’ve had to piss in the corner like a goddamn cat more times than I would like to admit to. The worst part waswhen Nash had to shit in the opposite corner, and I was puking in mine because there’s one thing I cannot do, and that’s shit.

Anything else, literally.

The state of this shit box is not up to the health code—that’s sure as fuck. Most people won’t even fart in front of their partners… and that was me before this fiasco. Nash and I are far past that now.

Not knowing how long it’s been since we were taken, I say, “I don’t like how this is looking, Nash…” I trail off, letting my mind wander to how bad this could really be. There very well could be no one alive who even knows we’re missing. Well, besides my dad, but he wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for us. Worry and something I can’t pinpoint is taking over Nash’s face. “What is it? Do you feel okay?” I want to add, “Besides all the dehydration problems, I know you’re feeling too,” but I don’t.

“I told Zamir I didn’t feel right about you not knowing about this, but I still didn’t tell you…” He takes a breath, steadying himself, and my mind goes to the worst places it could at this moment. Nash is so fucking innocent, what if Zamir told him something that would’ve eventually come back to haunt us, but he didn’t know any better? What could they all know that I don’t? “Have you noticed your stalker problem hasn’t been such an issue since you’ve stayed at Marcello’s?”

Does he still not know who Marcello is? There’s no way he doesn’t, and I know he watched Zamir and me make grown men beg for their lives.

?*The begging didn’t work that time…

“That’s so innocent of you thinking Cello wouldn’t have killed whoever it was doing that shit to me.” He should know Cello’s nothing if not being protective of me.

“Elle…” He sits up a little straighter, leaning away from the wall he was lying back on. “Marcello was your stalker.”

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