Prisoned - Marni Mann Page 0,18
opened our cell wouldn’t tell me, and he shut the door too quickly for me to grab him.”
“OUR CELL?”
I pushed myself off the ground and wrapped my arms around my stomach. My chest was heaving, my pulse racing. The air was closing in on me. It felt like there were hands squeezing my throat. And then there was this awful taste in my mouth, like I’d been sucking on a piece of hard plastic. But there was nothing between my lips, nothing around my neck.
Just me, Garin, this cell, so many unknowns, and not nearly enough air.
Stop fighting it, Kyle.
“I can’t breathe.”
I tried yanking my collar away from my throat, but my tank top wasn’t anywhere near it. The movement only made it feel tighter. Three clumsy steps, and I was at the sink, splashing cold water on my face, gulping it down. It didn’t help. I still couldn’t breathe.
Tiny flashes of light sparkled at the corners of my eyes as I paced in a small circle. They weren’t pretty; they were a warning that I was going to pass out. I needed to breathe. Nothing was going in; nothing was coming out.
Breathe.
Garin’s hands were on my shoulders.
Breathe.
“What’s the worst design you ever made?”
“What?” I panted, looking up through the pieces of hair that had fallen over my eyes. I was holding my chest because my throat was too tight to touch.
“Worst design,” he said. “Tell me about it.”
Relax, Kyle.
I shook my head. The plastic taste wasn’t as strong, the tightening starting to loosen just a little. “It was supposed to be a calla lily.”
“And?”
The shaking stopped, and the room was no longer spinning.
“It looked more like a tulip.” I inhaled through my nose and exhaled slowly out through my mouth. “Client hated it. Made me redo it, and the second one was just as bad.”
“Why?” He gripped my shoulders even harder.
“I can’t do flowers. Never have been able to.”
“Too detailed?”
“I’m just not a fan.”
“I’ve never heard a woman say that before.”
I shrugged, feeling his fingers bear down on me. “They die too fast. I’d rather have something that lasts a little longer.”
“So, no chocolate?”
I laughed, enjoying the warmth I was feeling from him because I didn’t know how long it would last. “Oh no, chocolate lasts. It goes straight to my ass where it has the potential to stay forever.”
“You’re breathing again.”
“I know.”
To make sure it stayed that way, I focused on Garin. He was in the same clothes he’d worn to the funeral, but now, his shirt was untucked, and there were stains on his pants. His scruff had definitely thickened, and the look in his eyes had deepened. As deep as when he had been kissing me.
“How long have we been here?” I asked.
“At least a night. Maybe more. I woke up only a few hours before you. It took you longer to sleep off the meds.”
He’d mentioned something about that earlier, and I’d ignored it. At that point, I thought I was in his hotel room. I wished I could go back to that thought. That image was perfect.
“What do you think they gave us?”
He sat us down on the floor, turning so that he faced me. His hand left my shoulder. I missed it the second it was gone.
“I don’t know, but something strong enough where they were able to transport us without us waking up.”
Air had fully returned to my lungs. It was my stomach I couldn’t get to relax now.
“Who’s they?”
“I’ve only seen one guy. I don’t know who he is.”
Garin was over two hundred pounds of muscle. It wasn’t just one guy who had drugged and transported the both of us. There had to be at least a few guys. If they took us, they wanted something from us. And if they wanted something from us, something told me they’d do anything to get it.
Anything.
How much time had I lost in this cell? How many days had I lain on that dirty cement while our captor watched us, planning on what he was going to do?
I glanced down at my hands. They looked so yellow in this dim light. Yellow and sickly and unwashed and shaking.
I was shaking again.
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
I rushed over to the door, wrapped my hands around the bars, and pulled on them as hard as I could. There was no budge. Not even the slightest movement.
“It’s locked. I already tried it. The fucker has no give at all.”
“No!” I shouted. I lifted myself until the