Page 56 of Irreversible

know.

There’s only one thing I do know. One thing I swear to this wall, to Sara, and to the girl who is no longer chattering a mile a minute from the room next door.

I’m going to kill this bastard.

I’m going to kill him for all of us.

13

Roger hurls me back into my room the following morning, and I fall to my knees with a strangled cry, weakened and sapped, as the door shuts behind me. His clunky footfalls echo down the hallway, waning from earshot.

Bastard.

My chest heaves with weighty breaths, my body limp and fatigued. I’ve only eaten a slice of bread in the last thirty-six hours, paired with whatever dirt particles and mouse droppings came along with it.

Rooted in place on the floor, I curl my fingers into the shiny tile, grateful I can’t see my reflection staring back.

I’m certain my blue eyes have dimmed to gray.

My complexion has faded to ash.

Hair brittle. Face gaunt.

“Are you in one piece over there?”

I freeze.

Slowly, I lift my chin and look up.

A stinging lump forms in the center of my throat. More than thirst pangs, more than day-old bruising from my lung-crushing cries. I gaze at the white separator beside me, my greatest foe,wanting nothing more than to smash it to bits, turn it into rubble, and burn it to the ground.

That damn wall.

It’s separated me from all the other men and women who have come through here. My companions in death. Tragic transients.

Friends.

Right now, it separates me from him—the man I want to strangle.

A hurricane of anger funnels through me as I jump to my feet and storm over to the wall between us, slamming a fist against it. “Screw you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” My eyes spit fire, my tongue spews wrath. I pace back and forth, my hands curled into fists at my sides, blood pumping, heart galloping with indignation. “You told him to justtake me. That itdoesn’t fucking matter.”

His chain jangles as it slides across smooth tile, like he’s moving toward the wall. “I knew he wouldn’t hurt you. You’re too valuable. Precious goods.”

“And you’re an asshole.”

“Not a revelation.”

“I can’t believe you were so flippant about my life,” I bite back, white-hot tears nibbling at my eyes. I’m still pacing, vibrating with residual fear. My hand slaps the wall again, because I’ll take this fury over the cloud of defeat raining down on me. “He could have killed me.”

“Could have; wouldn’t have.” He pauses for a beat. “And didn’t.”

“That’s beside the point.”

I hear his hands plant against the wall, inches from my face, causing me to flinch.

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