Lucy at War by Mary E. Twomey

Author:Mary E. Twomey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance, mythology adventure, romance urban fantasy, scandinavian folklore, norse mythology 101
Publisher: Mary E. Twomey

Nineteen.

I Love it, and it Dies

I started writing and didn’t stop for as long as my hand stayed with me. A few times I had to drop the pen to drink the broth Jens fed me. I hated, absolutely hated being fed, so I made it my mission to recover as quickly as possible so I wouldn’t be in a relationship where I was the mess anymore.

That was easier said than done, but writing everything down was a start. I filled the entire page before my determination began to waver, my grip going lax without my permission.

Jamie had calmed in only the bare minimum of definitions. Each sip of the broth brought a warning from him, but I took the bullet, showing him that even though I ate, we didn’t lose each other. Still he clung to me as he laid by my side. His arms were wrapped around my hips as if I was his last gold coin and the bandits would soon come and take me away. I was sitting up in the bed. Well, propped up on a mess of pillows, but I think that still counts.

Jens kept his distance, sitting at the foot of the bed and gently stroking my feet under the blanket as if they were made of the thinnest glass. He was patient, and I was grateful. Every now and then I would look up from my notebook and stare into his longing gaze with just as much desire to be closer to him. Though neither of us said it aloud, we decided to move slowly for Jamie’s sake. He was taking much longer to come back to himself.

By the fourth page, the words started to run together. I set the pen and notebook down on my legs, expecting Jens to pick it up so he could piece together our abduction. Jamie surprised us both by taking the notebook and starting his own account. He’d been reading mine as I wrote, and I watched him write, curious to see how different our time apart was.

Jamie’s hand was unpracticed, but he managed, scribbling angry strokes of the pen that tore rips into the page.

Chained to the floor in a black cell. Heard Jens’s voicemail, and then got a shock. Pain in my arms.

I love it and it dies. I love it and it dies. I love it and it dies. I love it and it dies.

Porridge poisoned. Starved. Taking the bond away. Playing Jens’s voicemail with a shock on our legs. Can’t move from the chains. Can’t stand. Cold floor.

I love it and it dies. I love it and it dies. I love it and it dies. I love it and it dies.

On and on Jamie wrote out the mantra that drove his nightmares. He scribbled until he tore the paper clean in two, breathing heavily through his teeth like an animal.

My hand drifted to his brown hair and stroked the curls there with clumsy fingers, hoping to bring him peace I was wishing for myself.

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