Page 166 of Serpent In White
“Drake, stop.” I gasp for air. “Please stop. Get off…”
He moves back, likely hearing the shakes in my voice. His eyes widen, and he releases me immediately.
I sit up, clutching my chest while sucking air into my lungs, sputtering to hold on to it before letting it go. My vision swims, and I close my eyes, squeezing them shut hard while I focus on catching my breath.
When I finally reopen them, I see Drake leaning up against the bed, gaze wide with dread and shining regret. He won’t even speak to me, but I hear him thinking…
Hear his guilt.
I reminded you of him… I scared you like him.
I shake my head slowly. “I know you’d never hurt me.”
“But I did,” he grunts, standing up fast.
I turn and watch as he stalks to the door. “Drake, don’t go.”
He stops, shoulders slumping while his head falls forward. He says nothing, but I hear him as he leaves the room…
This is why, baby.
You’re too damn good for me.
It’s cold down here. Dank and dark.
I don’t know what time it is, but I’m trying to keep track. I think I’ve been in this cell for at least four hours.
For as much regret as I have over my petty attempt at speaking the truth, and how terribly I mistook the situation, I’m still pissed. I can’t believe they locked me up in a cell.
Well, actually, I sort ofcanbelieve it. If they kill people, what would stop them from taking prisoners? I’d rather be locked in this dungeon than dead, although now I’m beginning to worry about what the endgame is here.
What are their plans for me?
I’m kicking myself. I let my pride and my misguided attempts at informing people drive me to make this stupid mistake, and now there’s no telling what kind of hot water I’m in. And mostly, I’m mad at myself for betraying Abdiel.
He trusted me. Brought me to his home and introduced me to his people, after saving my life. He sensed my loneliness immediately, and without a second thought, he offered his hand. He offered his help.
And what do I do? I come in here, investigating his friends and family, snooping and stealing, then call his man out in front of everyone.
I feel like such an asshole.
Covering my face with my hands, I exhale a rough breath.
Who am I?
My anger is bubbling inside, a thick rage chugging through my veins like molasses.The scumbagtook my identity.Hestole it from me, and now I have no idea who I am… Who I’m meant to be.
My soul is broken. I’m damaged, scraped up and dented. One moment contemplating suicide, the next reaching out for someone,anyoneto trust; someone to love me, to give me a chance. But then the immediate distrust swallows it all.
That perpetual suspicion. Thedoubt.
I hate feeling like this. I despise the wariness inside me. Why can’t I break it?
Why does it have to be like this?
A faint voice ripples from somewhere off in the darkness. Sitting up straight, I scoot away from the bars, zipping my back to the farthest wall. I’m scared down here. I can’t really see anything, and I don’t like being underground. I feel claustrophobic.
It only takes a moment for me to recognize the voice, or rather the thoughts, as they grow nearer.
