Page 25 of Pushed

Is that going to happen to me? Is that what I'm supposed to expect?

My muscles began to shake, quivering with every scream and cry. My heart beat like a drum inside my chest, slamming into my ribs as whips cracked and slaps rained down behind closed doors labeled with words that weren't meant for such pain.

Rainbows were bright, they were filled with luck and happy wishes, awestruck children and the sign of gold.

If the colors meant something, if they were secret descriptions of what went on behind them. . . I wasn't sure if I'd ever see the same glow from above as anything other than evil now.

Machi squeezed my hand and I felt him looking down on me. I wanted to look up and acknowledge him, allowing him to see the concern and worry on my face. I wanted him to know that I wasn't okay with any of this.

But I didn't. I kept my head down and my ears open, shivering from head to toe.

“I know it's hard, but try not to listen.” His thumb drew circles over the small nub on my wrist, following the long, thick scab made from the bindings. “There are different rules for all the girls here. The ones you get, depend on you. Not all of them are being hurt, some are actually enjoying it.”

“Not all—”

Holding up his hand, he silenced me.“No. No talking.”

Biting my tongue, I listened. I did what he asked me to do. But I didn't do it for him, I did it for me; escaping was a need, and I needed to know what I was running from.

Tugging me inside, we rode the elevator in silence. I didn't feel his eyes on me again as I stood a few inches behind him.

Letting go of my hand, Machi traded it for his phone. Balancing on my toes, I tried to get a quick glimpses of what he was doing, but he kept it hidden. The only thing I could make out was the soft glow of light from the screen, highlighting his cheek bone.

The hard curve of his jaw was exposed, painted with a thin layer of stubble. A small tattoo rested on the back of his neck, the ink bold and curving. It looked like a symbol, a mark that had meaning, but one I hadn't ever seen before. It reminded me of old Chinese script, with its thick lines and sharp turns.

What does it mean?

I was drawn to the small design, mesmerized by the detail and hidden meaning. My fingers buzzed to touch it, to follow the lines and feel the inked scar. I was so tempted to ask him about it. The question sat on the tip of my tongue, burning the muscle as it rested there, unable to be heard.

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he glanced over his shoulder. I was caught. “You're already pushing the limit and we just started.”

Opening my mouth to speak, he held up a single finger. “Uh. . .” Wagging it in my direction, he continued. “I know it's hard for you to not want to look, to not ask questions, I get it. But right now—” Machi's words cut off as the elevator slowed down. Throwing his hand up, he hit the large red button, keeping us locked inside. Turning to face me, he ran his hands through his hair. “Right now I need you to just listen, that's it. It's not hard to do, it's not hard to follow.”

Not hard to follow!?

You brought me here! You did this to me!

And you want me to just allow it to happen and not ask why!?

That's not fair!

Biting my lip, I kept my voice to myself. Wrapping my hands around each other in front of my waist, I let my eyes float up to his then back to the tattered red carpet of the elevator.

“Look at me.”

I kept my head down, unsure if it was a test or not. Did he really want me to look up or did he want me to follow the rules he gave me?

“Look at me,” he said again with conviction in his voice.

You can't have it both ways!

Cupping my chin, he tilted my head up. “You want to scream at me right now, I can see it in your eyes.” Searching my face, he stroked my jaw. “It's killing you that I won't let you, I can see the razors you're throwing at me, Pixie.” Arching his lip, he smiled in satisfaction. “Good, hold that, it'll help you.”

Letting go of my face, he grabbed my hand, hitting the button to open the doors. Taking a long, confident step out, Machi pulled me behind him.

The doors had opened to a foyer, an old run-down entryway to a once abandoned hotel that was now overrun with monsters. Tilting my head to the floor, I used my peripheral vision to see what was around us.

There was no denying it, this place had once been meant for the wealthy with its gleam of decadence and refined details.

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