Page 199 of Ride the Sky

I try to scream, but it’s muffled by his hand clamping the rag down harder. A cold, metallic smell fills my nostrils. When I go to hit Tripp, I find my arms won’t work.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no other way.”

Lightheaded, I sway, falling, falling, falling…

Into Tripp.

I sag limply against his chest.

His dark gaze bores into mine as he adjusts me in his arms. “Shhh,” he soothes, caressing my cheek. “Go to sleep. Time for a nap. Time to let me take care of you.”

I open my mouth, but my shouts and pleas die in my throat. Lashes fluttering, my head lolls against his chest as warmth slips over me, like a campfire. My rage subsides. A soft whimper falls from my mouth.

“I have you,” Tripp whispers. “I have you now, Fallon.”

Ahorse has stomped on my head. And apparently my stomach, too.

Waves of nausea crest over me, and I shiver, wanting to sleep, wanting to curl up and die.

The sedative state clouding my brain has worn off, leaving a numb fog. My tongue feels glued to the roof of my mouth. I lick my lips, my throat raw and dry as I swallow.

Hard, cold ground beneath my body. A faintly musty smell that reminds me of a basement.

Where am I?

My eyes fly open. The dim light sears, and I flinch, touching a hand to my throbbing temple. My shaking deepens.

Wire.

It’s all around me.

Holy shit, it’s a cage.

I sit up. The pounding from my head has entered my heart.

Slowly, I scan my surroundings. I’m in what resembles a four-sided, 10-by-10 wire security room. Mesh on all sides, with diamond-shaped holes big enough to put a hand through. A door on one side. The thick steel base is mounted to the cement floor. Though the light’s dim in the room, it’s not dark. There are two small, narrow windows high above me offering a glimpse of dull sunlight.

Morning. It’s morning.

My mind whirls. Rewinds.

Last night.

Last night…

Wyatt changing the flat tire. Wyatt twisting his body so I wouldn’t be hit. Wyatt—

I jolt, breathing hard.

Wyatt.

My heart drops when I see him.

He lies face down on the ground, in another cage pressed up directly against mine. His left ear crusted with blood, his hair matted and red.

Breath catching, I crawl to him. Before I can reach him, I’m stopped by a violent tug. I look down, realizing that my wrists are shackled together and attached to long chains that are hooked to the back corner of the cage.

I can only go so far. I can’t reach him.

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