Page 35 of Psyop Kings

Wouldn’t that be easier?

They took her. They took you. You didn’t make that up.

A terrifying chill wracks down my spine and chases away this pathetic attempt to get me all twisted up.

“Liar,” I say and then laugh in his face. “You’re a liar and I can see right through it.”

A flash of anger passes over his features before his expression goes placid again. He rubs his thumb over my cheek before releasing my face. Then he fumbles for something in his pocket.

“If you lie long enough, it becomes truth,” he murmurs. “You’ll see.”

He pushes a pill past my lips. The acrid taste makes me gag. I refuse to swallow it. But he holds my nose until I’m forced to open up to breathe. His long fingers shove the pill deep into my throat.

“Swallow.”

With tears rolling down my face, I swallow so he’ll take his hand out of my mouth. My throat constricts as he removes his fingers, but the pill doesn’t come back up.

“I hate you,” I choke out, unable to keep from crying.

He covers my mouth with his hand. “For now. It won’t always be that way.”

His awful gaze bores into me, but I refuse to look away. I stare into the depths of his dark soul as my limbs grow heavy and the fight leaves me. I’m starting to drift off when he finally releases me. I ache to punch him, but I’m boneless and tired. He picks up the discarded doctored photo of us. Then he tucks it into his pocket.

“Only the strong make it in this world,” Caius says as he slides off the bed and stands, towering over me like a wicked, granite gargoyle. “Remember that if you want to survive this.”

With those words, he turns off my lamp and then saunters out of the room. The door closes with a barely audible click.

The pull of the drugs steals me seconds later.

Romy

Ihave to play their game.

Rather than letting my captors know I’m awake and plotting, I keep my eyes closed, pretending to still be knocked out.

There’s so much I don’t know. For one, I have no clue what they keep drugging me with. Whatever it is, it’s giving them an unfair advantage. Anytime I’m too “awake” to their false cover story about me, they punish me by messing with my head a bit before sending me back to dreamland.

Fighting them isn’t working.

Something tells me they could keep this up forever.

It won’t last forever, though. Eventually, Dad and Bastian will see through my social media posts and whatever they’re texting back to them with my phone. Bastian likes to hear my voice every now and again. He’s a good brother and he’ll sniff out this fake version of me they’ve created.

Once they realize it’s not me, my family will exhaust every resource—and the Langston family has a lot of them—until they bring me home. Dad is meticulous and thorough. It’s only a matter of time.

How much time is the question.

This could go on for weeks or months.

But when I don’t show up for Christmas break, they’ll know something’s up.

Pain in my stomach from a gnawing hunger has me giving up my fake sleep. Slowly, I open my eyes, unsure if I’m ready for the next terrifying angle they’ll come at me with.

Muted gray walls come into view. I’m in one of the ever-changing guest rooms they first stuck me in after the floor cage. It’s much better than being in the fake dorm room. A shudder ripples through me. At least in this room, I can pretend I’m staying at a nice hotel.

You can do this, Romy.

Just keep it together.

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