Prisoned - Marni Mann Page 0,19

bottoms of my feet were driving into the door, and I tugged with all of my weight. “We can’t be locked in here. There’s no reason for it. We didn’t do anything wrong. We…”

There was no we.

Garin hadn’t done anything wrong.

There was only me.

“I’ve tried, Kyle. Trust me, it won’t open. Don’t use all your strength; you’re going to need it.”

My feet dropped to the ground, and I turned around to press my back against the door. My hands stung from the metal, my palms now tinged a deep orange from the rust. I felt myself falling until my ass sharply hit the cement.

“Ow,” I cried out. It wasn’t just my ass that was stinging from the fall. My bladder was full and burning, too. “It all hurts.”

“It’s the meds. Once they fully wear off, you’ll be better.”

“Will I?”

He was sitting across from me, staring into my eyes, his face so stoic.

“Because I don’t know how either of us can feel better in here,” I said.

“Come here.”

I shook my head.

“Come here, Kyle.”

He’d seen the man who had come to our cell. He’d had a few hours to stare at every corner of this room, every inch of the floor, every speck of grime, every bit of rust. Maybe he didn’t have answers, but he had some time to process.

I needed time, and I needed to process somehow.

“Kyle, come—”

“What? Are you going to give me some of your warmth? Or are you going to turn cold again? I can’t take that and this, Garin. And I can’t move.” It must have been the drugs that made my limbs feel so heavy, my head so cloudy. I could see, I could hear, I could feel, but none of it was crisp, and none of it felt like it was under my control.

Finally, warmth shone over his beautiful features, and he rose from the floor and walked over to me. “Come here.” He wasn’t asking me to do anything now. He was telling me what he was going to do, which was lift me from the floor and set me on his lap.

I molded to his body until I was snuggling into his chest with his arms wrapped around me.

I no longer felt the dampness in the air or the unforgiving hard floor.

I no longer felt his coldness.

I just felt him.

All of me felt him.

“I feel like a kid again, stuck inside The Heart, your comfort promising me that there’s a way out.”

“I can’t promise that.”

I sighed. “I know.”

I finally smelled him. His skin, clothes—whatever it was, it was a taste. A taste of something delicious inside a flavorless room. A taste that reminded me of years of memories. They embraced me as much as he did.

I needed that…even if I didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t know why we’re in here, but I’m happy they didn’t put us in separate cells.”

“Me, too,” he whispered.

Even if he was being wrongfully accused, I didn’t want to be in here alone. That made me selfish. That made me a horrible person. But I closed my eyes and soaked up whatever he was giving me. If things were about to get bad, then at least I had this minute of good.

“Garin?”

“Mmm,” he grumbled across the top of my head.

“You’re squeezing me so hard. My bladder is about to burst.”

“Then, get up and go to the bathroom.”

I slowly looked at his face. “I’ve never peed in front of a man before. Not even you when we were kids.”

His expression didn’t change, but his grip lightened. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you’ve never felt comfortable enough with a man to be able to pee in front of him.”

In all the time I’d been dating, I’d never peed with the door open. There was no pimple-popping. No shaving. Nothing personal, besides putting my clothes back on and walking out the door.

He was right; I wasn’t comfortable enough.

It was a sad reminder of the truth.

“Stop overthinking it, Kyle. Just go over to the toilet, drop your pants, sit on the seat, and pee. I won’t look.”

“But you’ll hear.”

“Yes, I’ll hear.”

“That’s just as bad.”

Considering where we were and what had happened, it should have been the least of my worries. The problem was, I was worried about everything.

He pressed his hand over my cheek, his fingers reaching well past my ear, his thumb dipping to the corner of my lip. Even when he was soft, he was still so rough. “I don’t know how long we’re going to be in here, but you’re going