Page 181 of Stand: Part One
I contemplated that for a moment, the hope of opportunity snaking its way back into my mind. You had to be smart to survive in this world, and if Daniel lacked the brain tissue responsible for ensuring his survival, then that could be an interesting fire to stoke.
“But we won’t know until he wakes up,” I added in confirmation.
Sid nodded before clearing his throat. “Should be in the next couple of hours.”
I stretched my stiff neck, rubbing my shoulder as I did. “Good thing he’s got a great neurosurgeon,” I commented with a smirk.
Sid grunted as he dipped his chin.
“How long have you been down here?” he asked me.
“Too long,” one of the guards angrily answered for me.
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, a few hours?”
Sid looked at his watch and frowned. “It’s past lunchtime. When did you last eat?”
I paused for a moment, not realizing the time. I used to have people who did that for me, who directed me throughout the day. But with Clive and Owen gone and Carla busy with assisting in the rehiring of all of Daniel’s staff, I was officially on my own for the first time in a long time.
I wonder how long that will last.
“Breakfast, I guess,” I finally responded.
Sid sighed. “You better go eat before Darren finds out.”
I grimaced at the thought of upsetting him again. Though he should be in a pretty chipper fucking mood given his recent victory. I didn’t need to give him a reason to upset that balance.
“Have you spoken to him today?” I asked.
“About thirty minutes ago. Why?”
“I was just wondering if he said when he would be back.”
Sid shook his head. “Whatever amount of time you measure ‘soon’ to be,” he answered. “So I would suggest you get moving.”
I exhaled a deep breath in disappointment. “Yeah, okay,” I relented, grasping Katherine’s hand tightly before letting it go and standing.
“I’ll watch over her for a bit. Go on,” Sid said, folding his arms as he stared down at Katherine.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely, momentarily locking my gaze with his before heading out of the infirmary toward the elevator. I’d seen this place way too often for my liking as it was.
The elevator doors dinged and slid open, allowing Camaro and me to step in and ride back up the short distance to the main floor. Staring down at my wedding rings, I twisted them absentmindedly around my fingers, eyeing the sharp edges of the cut while appreciating the fire of the diamond as it sparkled under the elevator light.
It took billions of years under intense heat and pressure for the earth to create something so tough and resilient. Yet it only took a few hours for humans to completely reshape it into something else, something brilliant and pleasing to the eye. It made me think of how often Darren had reshaped me, and then I wondered if he would ever be finished.
Before the elevator doors had barely opened, I glanced up, and my eyes immediately widened. A hand snatched out to clench around my throat and shoved me back against the elevator wall. The doors closed shut with a ding as the elevator descended, Camaro’s uncertain barked whine bouncing up from the floor.
Finding my courage, I willed myself to look up into the dark and vicious blue eyes that pierced back at me. Darren’s gaze was shadowed, a dark storm brewing behind the fierce coldness he was emitting.
But then I realized I was still breathing without strain, his hand having yet to tighten around my neck. Instead, he just held me in place as the elevator stopped at another floor lower than the infirmary, a floor I didn’t know existed.
“Where are we going?” I dared to ask, my voice low with caution.
Darren’s jaw tightened, the muscle flexing as his fingers curled around my throat.
“You’ll see,” he answered just before the elevator dinged and the doors opened.
Circling to the back of my neck, Darren wrenched me out of the elevator, whistling for Camaro to follow. The doors opened into a dimly lit hallway. There were no other doors, and the hallway seemed to stretch on pretty far. It must have been some sort of tunnel that connected the main house to somewhere else on the property.
