Silver Lining by Skye Warren

Author:Skye Warren [Warren, Skye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-14T18:30:00+00:00

12

Holly

The man in the room with me folds his arms over his barrel chest and taps his fingers over his elbow. He does this every time he stops to consider me, which is often.

My head aches from crying, from screaming, from the flashbang in the basement. My back aches from the metal chair. My ankles hurt from the chains. And of course my side still aches from the bullet wound, but none of it hurts as much as my heart.

I’m connected to the metal table in front of me by two lengths of chain. I think this is meant to convince me that the people who brought me here are not all bad. Same goes for the day-old sludge in the Styrofoam cup I keep cradled in my hands. It’s something to hold on to.

The man stops tapping his fingers and takes a chair on the other side of the table. He looks like he belongs here, in this concrete room. I belong anywhere else.

I belong with Elijah.

I have a sinking feeling that he could be close. That should make me feel better, because if he’s close then there’s a chance I can get to him.

But if they have me chained to a desk, what are they doing to him? This could be one of a hundred concrete rooms all used for varying and terrible purposes. My pulse pounds. Would it be better or worse if I could hear his voice right now?

“Elijah North is a traitor.” The man on the other side of the table drags a fingernail across the pitted metal surface. “That much we already know. We’ve been tracking his movements for some time, but it may come as a surprise to you. I understand you were… close.”

He says this, and then he waits.

And waits.

The coffee trembles in the cup, though I could swear I’m staying still. There’s nothing else to do. I’m chained to a table. Pulling at the chain isn’t going to do anything but give away how much each passing second weighs on me.

It’s a stupid weight, too. I shot one guy. That doesn’t mean I can topple the U.S. government. The military. Especially with no weapons and lacking even the ability to stand up.

In the silence I can stay still, and I can listen for Elijah, and I can be afraid of what I might hear.

It goes on forever.

I clear my throat.

What does he want me to say? Yes, we were close. When he burst into the basement I wasn’t wearing any pants, and I can still feel the fullness from when Elijah was inside me. Clearly we were close, but I don’t know what the right answer is.

I’m going to burst out of my skin. That would put a wrench in his plans. The energy making itself at home in my nerves feels dangerous and raw and completely at odds with the fact that my options are down to two: answer or don’t.

I stay silent. I’m listening for Elijah with so much focus that it feels like a knife through my temples.

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