Page 22 of Ramshackle
I bite my tongue. Sick. And her parentswillinglydropped her off with strangers and let them take her thousands of miles away?
Were the parents tricked or did they know that they’d never see their daughter again?
“Why do you think you’re sick?”
She looks around the room and then leans forward across the table to whisper conspiratorially. I mimic her to hear the apparent secret. “Sometimes, when I get really excited or upset, my eyes change color. Or my hair.”
I sit back in my seat and subconsciously rub at the collar around my neck. It’s been wearing my skin raw while in the water tank and after, so I catch myself bleeding every now and again. At this rate, I’ll have a scar around my neck.
“That sounds pretty cool, though.”
Mallory’s eyes widen, and then she curls a bit into herself.
“Don’t you think?” I prompt her when she doesn’t answer.
She nods shyly, and I smile.
Her parents probably freaked over it and told her it was wrong, so she never got to enjoy her gift. Of all the gifts I’ve seen, her parents should be counted as lucky that hers is starting so small and doesn’t do any actual damage.
“Well, I need to head out for training, but maybe I’ll see you again at lunch?”
Mallory looks up and smiles at me. “Sure.”
I return her smile and stand while picking up my things.
At least I’ve made one friend here. She’s no fighter, but maybe she can help keep my mind grounded.
My mouth turns down into a frown when I walk into the indoor training room we’ve been using the last week and I see other people in there. I was already in a bit of a mood after Mallory was a no-show for lunch today. We’ve been sitting with each other for over a week now, and it’s the first time she hasn’t come. That’s already worrisome, but now, seeing strangers in the room?
Gordon smiles at me when he sees me arrive.
Another red flag.
Holt flanks him, his arms crossed over his chest and face flat.
The other people are three males, all wearing regular clothes, bound and gagged in chairs in the middle of the room. I don’t recognize any of them if they are some of the otherguestson the island, but I guess I wouldn’t really unless they were Mallory.
“You’re progressing well, pet. It’s time we switch up our training. Pick one of the three and use your gift. See if you can focus it on a specific body part.” Gordon pulls up his stopwatch in his hand and presses some of the side buttons. “Hurry up and stand in front of the one you’re going to start with.”
My blood chills at his words. No. Not again. “No,” I tell him, my hands clenching to stop the tremor of what I know will be coming next. “I’m not killing or torturing people for you again. That wasn’t part of the deal.”
His face contorts with rage. “No?No?” He closes the distance between us and roughly pinches my face with one hand. “How mouthy you’ve become, pet. Shall I put your mouth to better use again like I had to last time? It was always shoddy work, but I’llmake the sacrifice to re-teach you the lesson of the only thing your mouth is good for. Andtalking backisn’t it.”
I’m shaking from the memories, tears pricking the corners of my eyes, but I don’t look away from him. “Do what you want with me, Gordon. But I’m not killing anyone again. Not for you.”
He buries a fist in my gut, shoving any oxygen out as I keel over for what his grip on my face allows. Then he throws me the rest of the way to the ground. His boot presses down on the side of my face so I’m pinned between it and the cold, lacquered wood floor.
“You’ll do whatever I tell you to, pet.Thatwas the deal. I don’t want to hear another thing out of your mouth unless it’s ‘Yes, sir’.” The pressure intensifies, and I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut at the pain. “I need to know that you’ll follow any and every order I give you without hesitation. This is just atest, pet. And one you will not fail me on.”
His foot disappears, and I curl in on myself, protecting my gut and trying to recapture the oxygen I lost.
“Bring her in,” Gordon orders someone.
I hear a door opening and closing and then two sets of steps approaching us. It’s easy to tell which set of steps belongs to Holt. They’re heavy and loud. The other set is far quieter.
“You think I didn’t notice you getting friendly with someone else?” My heart lodges in my throat. I force myself to look up off the floor at who Holt brought in, hoping that I’m wrong. “Did you really think you could do anything here that I wouldn’t find out about?” Gordon laughs cruelly right as I look up at Mallory’s tear-streaked face.
He aims his gun at her, and she screams and thrashes in Holt’s grip. “Noooo! Let me go! Please! I’ll do anything!Please!”
