Page 58 of Irreversible

I settle back against the wall, my hair a tangled curtain around my face. “Isaac…” I murmur. The name falls out effortlessly.

I like it.

His tone dips, veering into that place of vulnerability he loathes to idle in. “You don’t need to say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“All sweet and soft, like it’s your new favorite word.” There’s a notable edge to his tone, gravelly and raw. “It’s just a name.”

“It’s a good name. Makes me think of Isaac Newton, the scientist.” I twist my head to the side, curious about him. “Were you named after him?”

“No.” A bitter huff. “It’s more of a hopeful Biblical reference I failed to live up to.”

“Your parents were religious?”

“My mother was, once. I was her penance for being sullied by the devil. She hated me from the second I was conceived.”

I hesitate.

That’s a lot to unpack.

I’m about to press for more, but another thought strikes me. “Who was Sara?”

There’s a long pause, and I know he won’t indulge me. “You ask a lot of questions, Bee.”

Bee.

Something shimmers inside my chest when I hear him call me that nickname again.

A flutter. A little pirouette.

But then the metaphorical guillotine flashes through my mind, glinting silver and flaunting razor-sharp edges, so I press the heel of my hand to my heart and rub away the tickle. “You’re one to talk. Was she your girlfriend?” I wonder. “Wife?”

“If I’ve led you to believe I’m secretly a romantic, I apologize.”

Sighing, I stretch out my legs. “Sister?”

More silence answers me. No rattling chains, no grumbles or sighs of disdain. A handful of seconds tick by in time with my heartbeats as I wait for the sound of his voice.

For something.

“She was…the closest I ever came to hope.”

I kick away the itchy blanket as it tangles between my ankles. I’m restless. On edge. The fluorescent lights have flickered out, signaling nighttime, and the room is now bathed in a muted red glow from my full-spectrum vitamin D lamp.

For being such a depraved psychopath, my captor evidently cares about my bone density. Can’t have me withering away before more costly follicles are suctioned from my womb.

I turn over onto my side and face the wall. The mattress rustles, the only sound penetrating the eerie quiet. While these accommodations are like an all-inclusive beach resort compared to last night’s sleep arrangements, I can’t seem to get comfortable. Peace won’t come, and maybe it’s because I’m too afraid of the grisly nightmares, ready to strike the moment I close my eyes.

Propping my cheek in my hand, I stare at the crimson-tinted divider beside me. “Isaac?”

A light clinking sound breaks through the silence. “Hmm.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Congratulations, now neither can I.”

I collapse back down to the cot, letting out a sigh that makes my loose curls take flight. “Want to play a game?”

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