Page 22 of Saving Sparrow
The torture of being beaten and locked in a room didn’t compare to not knowing how much time had passed. That was a different type of prison. A different type of hell.
He’d fixed it. I warned my heart not to get ahead of itself. Sparrow didn’t care about me. Changing the batteries must have been beneficial to him in some way. Maybe he wanted to show me what I could earn if I cooperated. Maybe he wanted to build me up only to shred me to pieces again. Still, I hoped.
The sedation was still working its way out of my system. That must be why I hadn’t heard him enter. Then again, Sparrow moved with eerie silence.
I swiped the wetness off my cheeks, clearing away the crusted tears from earlier. My bladder screamed for release, and I refused to go in the bedpan. Tossing the blanket back, I peered down at my bare legs. One knee appeared more swollen than the other, and the bruising along my shins was more yellow than blue now. I held my breath as I pushed myself upright.
“Fuck.”Spit struck my lips and chin as I panted through the agony. Maybe removing the IV had been too hasty. Without the pain meds, I felt everything and knew for certain a few ribs were fractured.
I stared at my legs again, terrified of what I had to do next. A sheen of sweat broke out along my forehead, and I told myself standing couldn’t be any worse than sitting up because my torso had received the brunt of Sparrow’s fury.
After several ragged breaths, I managed to get one leg off the bed. Pain vibrated through my whole body, and saliva flooded my mouth as I fought the urge to hurl. It took all the strength I didn’t have not to fall backward onto the stack of pillows. If I did, I wouldn’t make it up again.
“You’re the best part of me, Guelly. Both you and Q. Promise we’ll always be together?”
“I promise,” I whispered, my vision tunneling when I hauled my other leg off the bed.
“I love you.”
“I love you more,” I breathed as I pushed to my feet. My hands flailed, searching the air for something to grab onto as my knees buckled. I grabbed the IV pole, clutching it tightly before I fell backward anyway. I lay sprawled on my back across the bed, my feet still planted on the floor. Defeat weighed me down, my body giving out on me as I clung to memories for hope and strength.
“I can’t live without you, Guelly. I can’t live without either of you.”
“We c-can’t live without you either.” Pain spread to my fingertips.
“It’s just us here. Forever.”
It took an excruciating amount of time, but I eventually got to my feet again. Groaning through the pain, I wrapped myself around one of the bedposts this time. Sweat soaked through the gown, and I angrily tore the twisted material off me. For once, I wished there weren’t a fire warmingthe room. I stared at the thrashing curtains, longing to feel nothing but the breeze disturbing them against my overheated skin.
I shuffled my naked body over to it, pressing my palms onto the cold glass as I took in the aftermath of the storm. White coated the world, and in the distance, a small group of moose disappeared into the snow-covered woods.
It was dark out, but not quite as dark as night. I wondered if that meant it was morning. The clock showed it was almost nine. I’d struggled for nearly an hour to get out of bed.
I inched closer until my breath fogged the glass. Out there somewhere, families gathered around the fireplace telling stories, or sat around a table eating breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Kids played, lovers loved, and none of them knew I existed. None of them knew I fought for my life here, fought for my own family.
The scene outside should’ve been beautiful; instead, it only highlighted how ugly things were inside here. I felt trapped, insignificant, unworthy of search and rescue.
Sticking close to the perimeter of the room, I used the armoire, the chest of drawers in the corner, and finally the wall to assist me on my journey to the bathroom. I braced myself for what I would see in the mirror before turning on the overhead light.
The dim glow cast a yellow tint over the bathroom, matching the color of my healing bruises. I shuffled over to the mirror, taking inventory of myself.
I lacked some of the muscle definition I had when I arrived here, but I hadn’t gotten as thin as I’d feared. I’d never had much facial hair, but the hair on my head had grown a bit, flopping over my forehead and ears, curling loosely at the tips. I pushed the dark strands back, leaning in to make out the scabbed-over cut above my brow. That must have happened when his boot made contact there. The swelling around the cut was minimal now.
The natural coloring of my skin made the more minor bruising along my face less pronounced, but the left side of my ribcage still held on to its purple hue. The area was tender to the touch, and anything deeper than shallow breathing hurt more than words could ever convey.
I inspected the gash on my index finger. The digit suffered the most damage of all of them. Sparrow had removed the shard of glass.
Dragging myself over to the toilet, I was relieved at having no pain during urination, and there were no traces of blood either. My kidneys were spared Sparrow’s wrath.
Swallowing four painkillers from the medicine cabinet, I sat on the edge of the tub, waiting for them to kick in before getting in the shower. I stood under the hot spray until the water ran cold; the heat both soothed and hurt my battered body.
Wrapping a towel from the shelf around my waist, I ambled back into the bedroom, almost tripping over myself to get to the plate of food on the nightstand. I scarfed down the oatmeal and toast, practically pouring the two bottles of water down my throat afterward. He’d made me breakfast. Did that mean it was morning?
Mentally, I couldn’t get back onto the bed. The thought of it felt like going backward, like succumbing to what he’d done to me. Instead, I dressed in the T-shirt and sweats he’d left next to the food. Both items were mine. So, Sparrowhadgone through my things.
I worked my way over to the sitting area, tossing more logs into the fireplace before reclining on the couch. With nothing left to do, I welcomed sleep when it came again.
I knew I wasn’t alone even before opening my eyes. There was a charge in the room whenever Sparrow was in it, one that I was more aware of now. My eyes opened directly onto him. He was so close now. All it would have taken was my moving to the very edge of my seat and reaching for him. This close again, I was reminded of how striking he was. When I lost my breath, it wasn’t from my injuries.
