Page 140 of Magic or Madness

What is Fallon doing? Is she okay, are they torturing her? Fucks sake, for all I know they could be forcing her to give up information, or worse, taking advantage of her.

With that thought, the rage boils over, and I can’t control it this time.

I punch the side of the building with my right hand, the pain searing through me, but I canfinally fucking feel something.I do it again, this time with my left, hooking the brick as if it wronged me somehow.

I do it over and over again, connecting my fists until blood pours from my knuckles, the crimson-red liquid pooling onto the pavement in slow drips.

I examine the damage, knowing that this is going to hurt like a son of a bitch later, but it’s better than feeling nothing at all.

“Did it help?” Oliver teases, passing me the cigarette, my fingers staining the filter with blood, and I sigh, letting the nicotine work its way through my body.

My body buzzes in reaction, and all my senses feel heightened, the adrenaline coursing through my veins with every drag.

I look down at my hands again, and the blood makes me think of my Bambi, the night we did our oath. This feels like a connection to her, and through my pain, I can feel her terror, but also her strength.

Suddenly, I’m certain that she’s okay, like my terrified thoughts were heard and immediately debunked. She’s going to be alright, and she’s coming home to me. I believe that wholeheartedly.

If there’s one thing I learned from Fallon, is that anything is possible, and I choose to take this as a sign that what I’m doing is right, and she’s waiting for me.

“We’ve got something!” Lex yells from inside, and I stomp the cigarette out, following Oliver back inside.

This is it, the first round of negotiation.

Lex reads the email aloud and I close my eyes, letting the words cascade over me. I’m soaking it all in, carefully listening to the twisted demands of a sick man.

He listed the meeting place, the requirements, and will allow me a fifteen-second proof of life call with Fallon that will take place thirty minutes before the meeting.

This person loves to be in control, like he thrives off it, and I’m prepared to let him have his way. My revenge will come at a different time, but today, I’ll comply with whatever it is he wants, as long as Fallon comes back to me.

I look to Oliver and Lex, who are waiting for my command, and I give the green light.

“Let’s make a deal.”

It’s time to bring Bambi back home.

FALLON

I feellike thatstupidblue fish in the kid's movie who sangjust keep swimming, except I’m being ripped apart by strong currents, and tossed back into the throes of the darkness, forcing myself to keep going.

Just as I reach the surface, threatening to break through, I’m yanked back under, with the weight of a thousand men holding me down.

My lungs can’t fight for air much longer, and my heart feels like it’s cracking, even though I know I’m not in pain.

“She’s waking up, boss.” I hear a man speaking in the distance, and I follow the voice to the surface, crashing through with force.

My eyes flick open slowly, and everything is blurry. I attempt to focus on something small, anything I can use to gain my sight.

I recognize a water bottle, and I can see my feet at the end of a couch, bound together by rope.

Instantly, the panic takes over, and I attempt to use my hands, but they’re tied together, pinned to something above my head that I can’t see. Not in a fun way either, more like, my life is in danger but I can’t recall why or how. I attempt to thrashagainst the rope, but it’s tight, and I realize how useless it is to fight. I need to save my strength, find an opening where I can attempt to escape.

“There she is, the mysticalFallon. You’re the glue that keeps those boys together, aren’t you?” A man says, laughing to himself, as his eyes take me in.

I can’t speak, my throat dryer than a fucking desert, and he acknowledges that, helping me sip the bottle of water. It goes down like sand, lumping in my throat like the hardest pill I’ve ever had to swallow, and I do my best to behave like a perfect hostage.

That’s what I am, I realize, seeing the predicament I’m in and my involuntary imprisonment here.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

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