Maybe being a therapist‘s daughter has made me too understanding, but I know I don’t hate Wyatt with every fibre of my being like I should. During our journey, I learnt his indecisive glances and conflicted expressions, noting all the times he didn’t know why he was still ploughing ahead with someone else’s plan. The human mind is complex enough without being at war with itself. But if this is what he truly thinks he needs; I do find myself hoping he’s right. Maybe that’s why I didn’t fight hard enough, because in coming here maybe I could save both him and my twin from miserable fates.
Not even a scurry of rats or a dripping tap sound to fill the silence around me. Just the drumming of my fingers on my collar bone and the unsure thump of my heart. I should be used to my own company, considering I was an only child up to a few weeks ago. But for one moment, between early morning yoga sessions and midnight chatting in bed, I’d never felt so complete. And now I lay staring at the shadowed lines across the ceiling with the cold biting at my cheeks, I’m no longer able to ignore the anguish I’ve been trying to pretend hasn’t been tearing me in two since I woke up in the trunk of the car.
If I can just hold onto the hope that Avery is safe, that’ll be enough to withstand anything thrown my way. I yearn for her company, her strong yet comforting presence to bolster me, but I will gladly give my life to never see her down here. She’s suffered enough at the expense of Nixon’s decision to have us adopted so I suppose it’s my turn.
Axel
Why can’t I move? Shrouded in darkness, only the thump of my heartbeat in my ears tells me I’m not dead, not that I feel reassured. My body feels like I’ve been buried in concrete, every muscle too weak to push against the weight holding me down. My mind slipped through the fog to rouse a little while ago, but my eyelids are still too heavy to lift. What the hell happened to me? Using all my focus, I push every drop of my energy into twitching each of my fingers one by one. Satisfied my fingers are in working order, I slowly begin wiggling my toes back and forth to banish the pins and needles sending tingles up my legs. A shudder rolls through my restricted spine, making me want to groan at the involuntary movement but no sound passes my lips. Finally, an eternity of lying in the pitch black of my own panic, I manage to crack my eyelids and blink a few times to focus.
A sea of stars greets me on the other side on my vision, glowing softly in a mix of pale yellow and green. There’s something so familiar about the perfectly pointed shapes, something blaringly obvious lingering on the edge of my mind but I can’t quite grasp it. A solid weight beside me suddenly shifts, a hand slinking over my chest and heavy breath fanning my ear. Fuck.
A scenario I’ve played out a thousand times before slams into me, a pained noise actually leaving me this time. A hand clasping my mouth, painted lips whispering to ‘shh’ in my ear. Perfume so strong clogs my throat, the scents of smoke and alcohol filling my nostrils as fingers brush across my exposed skin. Those glow-in-the-dark stars are my only anchor to reality, the only constant in this repetitive nightmare. How am I back here? Did I ever even escape or was it all a dream?
The figure clinging to my side sits upright, flicking on my space-themed nightlight to assess me. I will my body to move but I’m stuck, glued to the mattress and only able to scream in my mind. Soft hands touch my cheeks, the tears slipping from my eyes landing upon delicate fingers. Please no, not again. I can’t be here again. My name is being said but it might as well be miles away, battle cries of useless determination filling my ears as I stare at those damn stars. By the time I’ve counted the five points of each one, this should be over. Sitting upright, the darkened silhouette looms over me until I can no longer count, and I recoil until a sea of hazel catches my attention.
Garrett. The invisible binds holding me in place snap at the same time my chest bursts with relief and I lurch upright to grab him. A shot of agony slices across my mid-section, pain blazing a trail through me until I’m slumped back and writhing in discomfort. “Shit stay still Axel. I’ll be right back.” Garrett’s gone before I can beg him to stay, my outstretched hand desperately grabbing the air as agony of a different kind swallows me whole. He’s barely left the room and I’m already contemplating jumping up to chase him, not giving a shit about the repercussions. The small unloved boy in me would do anything for a simple hug, and the broken man I am only wants it from him.
The pain in my abdomen has lessened to an intense throbbing by the time he finally returns, flanked by a bearded man in flannel pyjamas
