Page 91 of Dissent

Everything that could have gone wrong had. I thought back over the past month and a half, over everything that had happened, and I felt the weight of it all crushing me from the inside out. The boy I liked had been a Dissenter and then burned alive in the arena. I discovered that everything I thought to be true was a complete lie. And then, there was Matias, the boy that had been assigned to keep me safe, was the boy I grew to like…a lot. And he liked me too. And just as we had found ourselves, figured out that we both wanted each other, his ex-girlfriend showed up. And what does he do? He goes running right back to her, leaving me behind.

The memory collided with my soul, sending a deep ache in my core. I closed my eyes, but my scenery didn’t change because it was dark in the basement, and cold. It was a deep, penetrating feel of glacial ice that sunk into my bones. I curled my legs against my chest, wrapping my arms around my shins as I rested my forehead against my knees. The position did little to warm me, but at least there was mild comfort in being curled up so tight.

Matias…

Matias had chosen Chelsea. And then I was back here, met by my dad. No, not my dad. He made that very clear. I was dead to him. He denounced me. The knowledge flooded me with tears once again. And no matter how many times I tried not to feel hurt by him, I did. Every time his words came back to me, I felt the stab of abandonment all over again. Because he didn’t want me. He didn’t love me. I wasnothingto him.

You are no daughter of mine.

A knot had settled into my throat, making it increasingly difficult to swallow. Tears flooded my eyes again, overwhelmed my lids, and then cascaded down my cheeks. I didn’t know how I hadn’t run out of tears by now. All I had been doing since being thrown into the basement was cry. And I didn’t know how long I had been down here either. I knew it had been a while, but without being able to see outside, it made it hard to tell time. I suspected at least three days? Four? But I really didn’t know.

They had stripped me of everything except for my clothes. But they had searched me—thoroughly—making sure there was nothing on me that would lead the rebels back to me. Then I was thrown in, but not before Belinda reintroduced me to her whip. It had been brutal. It was part of the reason I felt so cold because my shirt was shredded from where the whip had cracked along the flesh of my back, splitting the fabric and slicing through the skin. Eighteen times she had cracked that whip. Eighteen.

One for every year you have been a blemish on this family.

That’s what she said. And she took pleasure in every single one. Then she did it again the next day, and the day after that. And then…then I lost count. Each day was just a waiting game. And each day I grew sorer, weaker, and…I thought about death. They had sentenced me to death in the arena. To be burned alive, in front of all of Telvia, just like Chase. A sob broke through me this time. I couldn’t hold it back. The whole thing sucked, and I felt so depressed inside. But the death part didn’t sound so bad. I welcomed it at this point. I was done…broken.

I had given up.

I turned my head on my knees, the side of my face resting upon them as the tears subsided. My breath slowed, and the sobs that had been racking my chest finally quieted down. Peace filled me, and a deep sense of resolve took over. I was going to die, and I was okay with that. Exhaustion swept through me, and I fell asleep.

***

A sound stirred through my consciousness, waking me. I opened my eyes and instantly had to close them. A beam of light sliced through the dark, stinging my eyes. I blinked rapidly, lifting my arm to block the light. Then I heard footsteps coming down the stairs toward me. As my vision slowly adjusted, I could see the shape of someone. The knowledge that this individual was probably my executioner rattled me, fear flashing through my system before it settled, replaced by a feeling of acceptance.

Finally, let’s get this over with.

I brought my head down, but still held my eyes partially closed, brows furrowed, my face slightly turned away from the light coming through the door. I still couldn’t make out the face of the individual who stood just a few feet from me.

“Mara?”

I knew that voice. “Jacob?”

He closed the distance between us and bent down to the floor in front of me, his face coming into view. My eyes blurred and then focused, the details of his blue eyes and blond locks finally clearing in the dim light. His eyes were wide and puffy, evidence of nights spent in anguish. And I could see concern on full display across the plains of his face.

“Oh god, Mara. I’m so sorry she did this to you.” His arms wrapped around me, but the second his arms touched my back, I gasped. He dropped his arms and all but jumped away from me. “Damn it, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I muttered, my voice hoarse from lack of use. My throat was dry too, and the realization that I was thirsty hit me. “Water?”

“Oh! Yes! Yes, of course. Here, I brought you some.” He produced a bottle, opening it before offering it to me. I grasped it and downed the cool liquid. “Better?”

I nodded and then took another sip. “Thank you.” I looked at him again, and the anguish on his face pained me.

“I’m so sorry, Mara. But why? Why did you do this?”

“Jacob, there’s water. I’ve seen it.” I didn’t even know where to start or what to explain first. But did it even really matter? I was going to die any day now. Or maybe today was the day? Maybe he was here to take me to the arena. I shivered. That would be a total bitch move I wouldn’t put past Belinda. God, I hated that woman.

Jacob shook his head. “No, Mara, we’re not going there. The rebels are against us. It doesn’t matter what there is or isn’t. You got to trust me on this. They’re no good and full of lies.”

“Itdoesmatter.” Why am I even having this argument? There were more important things here. My brain was scrambling. I didn’t even know what it was I wanted to say to him. What would be most important?

His expression changed, distorting itself as his brows drew forward and a frown consumed his lips. “You betrayed us. You betrayedme.”

“No! No, Jacob, it’s not like that. They kidnapped me—”

“So, you didn’t run away with them?” He cut me off, hope sprinkled into his tone.

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t. But, Jacob, listen to me. Things aren’t what they seem.”

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