Page 114 of Resistant

“You awake?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

We are driving on dirt roads that narrow down to one lane paths, bouncing along in a small truck. I groan as we hit a pothole and land hard on my backside. I don’t remember switching from the car to this truck, Declan must have moved me while I was sleeping.

A small clearing and a tiny cabin appear in the darkness.

“Where are we?”

“Home.”

“You live here?”

Declan looks over at me, there no hint of the playful man I’ve known on his face. It’s hard, and this side of menacing.

“Mr. Anderson, your detail. It’s his house.”

My brain whirls trying to make sense of what he’s telling me.

“Josh and I go way back; this is where I found him off the grid when I needed help. He’s still undercover, but he’s also the only person other than me who knows where you are Brynn. We have a lot to talk about. Let’s get you changed; we’ll talk, and I need to get some sleep.”

A week has passed since our arrival at Josh’s cabin. The first two days were violent. I raged at Declan. He held me down on the bed, his blue eyes searing into mine, willing me to come back.

I thrashed and swore and scratched until he pinned me down with his body, his scruffy jaw scratching over mine, my sobs muffled by his shoulder. Afterwards, I vomited, and started sweating profusely.

He dunked me in a trough outside to cool me off, muttering to me all the while that he wasn’t going to give up, so I should give in to him.

But how could I give in, again and still be me? Eventually, I felt all the fight leaving me drained and weary. Once he was sure I wasn’t going to stab him with a fork, Declan explained that I’ve been drugged for months.

Knox drugged me to gain my compliance. I had no idea, no that’s not true. I had an inkling, but I never acknowledged it. But it makes sense. I can still feel the non-Brynn hiding in the depths of my mind. She’s pushing at me, screeching that once Knox finds me there will be hell to pay. I told her to fuck off, but she’s not a good listener.

I know Declan has more to tell me. I haven’t pushed him. The jagged tear that I put together the night of the party has since ripped wide open in our time here.

I alternate between myself and the other non-Brynn. I can’t seem to make the two of them marry or let go of the non-Brynn altogether. It hurts so bad, but I feel myself pulling away from Declan more every day.

It’s quiet here, the noise of the cicadas echoes and is carried by the breeze blowing through the trees. The fog is not thick here and I can see over the valleys if I walk a ways from the cabin. Declan has taken to working via satellite during the day, and he sits with me in the evenings. Sometimes we talk, but mostly I just sit with him.

There has been no hint of intimacy since we left the hotel room and my insecurities blaze to the surface, has he changed his mind about me? Is he keeping me here because I’m valuable and not because he wants me?

I hear Declan approach; his footsteps and the crunch of needles are now familiar. He sits down next to me in the grass and pine needles. I don’t look at him.

“I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you this Brynn, and there is no good way.”

He hands me a cell phone. I look at him and see grief written over his handsome face, and a tear floats down unbidden.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know how you are going to get past this, but I’m here.”

He unlocks the phone and shows me the still of a video. My heart races as I look at my son lying in a hospital bed. He looks so sick, a shell of who he was when I last saw him. My heart stutters in my chest and I grip the phone tightly.

“When you are ready, hit play. Do you want me to stay here, or would you rather watch it alone?”

“Alone.” I whisper.

I hear him move away; his steps muffled once he reaches the grass. I hold the phone, staring down at my son. I press the screen several times to keep it from locking, but I don’t press play. He’s too thin, and he looks bad. And when I say bad, I mean death. After about half an hour staring and the still image, I press play and hold my breath. My baby talks to me. I watch it over and over again, not comprehending what I have seen with my own eyes. I hear his words, and they stick somewhere near my rib cage trying to penetrate my heart.

I watch as Declan holds my son, and he breathes his last breath. I rewind it and watch it again and again. I watch Declan hold my son and cry over him. I drop the phone in the dirt. A raw curdling scream erupts from my throat and burns all the way through my body. I hear running footsteps and Declan picks me up and carries me back into the cabin.

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