Page 143 of Sawyer

Both are wrapped around each other.

One is Bryn, our superman.

The other person is not Sawyer.

“No.” It’s all I can say as Thea blinks sleepy bright blue eyes at me.

“Sin,” she says in that sleep muddled voice of hers I only heard in my dreams. “You came for me.”

I didn’t. I came for Sawyer, and I found you.

No, this is all wrong.

Sawyer

Sleep eludes me, existing just at the edges of my grasp, and then when I think I’m close, so damn close, my thoughts intrude, taunting me with their anxiety and worry. Then they doom me with scenarios that play out behind my eyelids, ones that don’t even exist. They keep me awake, though, and then I play into those thoughts.

It’s the resignation that causes me to play along that kills me.

In one, I’m the hero that I always wanted to become. I somehow find a way out of this room, shut down the security, and lead a warrior’s revenge on the lab.

Then I burn it to the ground.

In another, the guys save me and profess their undying love to me, and then we burn the lab to the ground together.

No matter what scenario I choose, this place burns.

That might be why I feel like I do right now. Thoughts of fire and destruction manifest into reality, burning me up from the inside out.

Sweat beads on my forehead, and despite the cool air constantly blowing on me, I feel like I have a fever. I’m achy and sore, and grief swells inside me until I roll over again to face the dark wall.

I don’t want to feel anything. I need to put everything aside—all the circumstances, every little revelation—and observe everything from a bird’s-eye view.

What I know is that Rumor is going to get us out of here in the early morning hours. Since the red numbers are my only light source, they taunt me as they tick down. Early morning could literally mean anything to that man. Anything at all.

It’s currently one in the morning.

If he somehow manages the impossible, I need a plan. I can only think about things I can control. Thea living and breathing isn’t something I can control, nor can I control the guys’ actions toward her.

I have to function and plan my actions as though I am just another kidnapped gamma like Violet, here against my will, experimented on, drugged, and thrown in front of alphas from some black market.

“I can work with this.” Pretending that I’m single comes easier than I’d like it to. I know it’s just a coping mechanism, and my brain is saying, Bitch, we got you, by numbing everything, of course.

Survival first.

That is my goal, not surviving Sin, not surviving Rumor, and not surviving Bryn.

I’m surviving for myself, which empowers me more than anything else in the world. Even my body slowly cools, adjusting to a normal temperature, and relief eases my clenched muscles. A part of me is worried that the damn spider bite will get infected again, and although the swelling is nothing more than a slight bump, the fear of infection rides me hard.

I’ll need to hunt down Mila when I get out of here, and I will get out of here.

I’m going to get us out of here, and by us, I mean Violet and me. Thea wasn’t in the cafeteria, and she never came in after the revelation of the other gamma, which means she’s probably with her pack.

See, I can think it and ignore the pinch in my gut.

I am so proud of my bullshit right now.

As the locks disengage, the clock blinks out and then blinks back on.

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