"Marcus..." I whine.
"Awh," Marcus coos, crouching in front of my cell doors. "Yes?"
"Stop being a tool." Despite how much I want to sound tough, my voice is weak. I'm weak.
He chuckles and hangs his head. I want to break his nose again.
Marcus stands up abruptly and salutes me, "See ya later, Birdie."
"Marcus," I pause. My dignity is nowhere to be found. "Please."
My now tears are running down my face. He's breaking me, and he knows it.
"Please what?" He smirks and kneels down again.
I'm leaning on the wall next to the cell door, as I have been for maybe the past five hours. I shake my head at him, choking back a pathetic sob.
"Please stop doing this to me," I whisper.
"Doing what?" The asshole plays coy. "You're doing this to yourself, kiddo."
"Marcus, what do you want from me?" I swipe at my eyes with the back of my wrist.
"Baby girl," he leans so close it looks as if his face is through the cell bars. "I want your soul."
"Rue."
The familiar voice confuses me. I ignore it and turn around, trying to fall back to sleep.
"Rue, let's go!"
I'm suddenly roughly drug out of the bed, and picked up.
"What are you doing? Who are you? Put me down!" No matter how hard I try to throw a punch or deliver a kick, my limbs fail to move.
"Shh," a mouth is right against my ear. "I'm getting you out of here."
My heart's in my throat, but I'm too weak to do anything but nod. I've been waiting for this for two and a half weeks.
I sigh contently, stretching my arms under my soft, clean pillow. My eyes stay closed, but I'm awake, thinking. Wait--Soft, clean pillow?
My body shoots straight up, and my eyes snap open. The room is all white; white walls, white tile, white sheets, and white clothes. My eyes burn, not used to this much light. I shake off the uncomfortable feeling of someone other than myself changing my clothes.
A white wooden door catches my eye, so I carefully and quietly tip-toe over to it. It silently opens and reveals a breathtaking bathroom, complete with a spotless porcelain toilet, sink, and best of all: shower.
My clothes are off faster than the speed of light, and I hop in the shower. With the water on steaming hot, I take inventory of soap, shampoo, and conditioner. I greedily dump a giant glob of shampoo into my hand, and slap it onto my head.
I'm probably in the shower for over an hour, but I take advantage of the razor and shave my legs (and armpits), and lather myself in soap about five times. I wash my hair about six times before it's soft and smooth.
I bask in the steam before drying off in a big, fluffy towel. There are clean clothes--still white--in the cabinet closest to the sink, so I change. You have no idea how good it feels to be clean.
Hair up in a towel, I jump back into bed, snuggling under the big comfy comforter. This time, I take pleasure in sleeping.
The smell of fresh bacon makes me shoot up out of bed. A tray of bacon, eggs, pancakes, strawberries, and orange juice sit on the side table next to my bed.
Not caring whether or not the food is poisoned, I snarf down as much as I can. Surprisingly, I can't eat as much as I'd like to. My stomach shrank after all that time without food, and it'll probably take a while for it to get back to normal.
Curiosity seizes me, so I creep around the room. I had already checked out the bathroom, and under the bed. A small alcove catches my attention, so I tip-toe over. My heart and stomach drop when I find another barred doorway instead of a plain door.
Emptiness crowds my insides; the need to be anywhere but here closes around my heart. I long to be at home with Tate and Olivia. Oh Olivia... My darling little sister. What have they done with her?
I slump next to the bars, bawling. Deja vu hits me like a truck; I do this too often.
"Stop crying."
I glance at Marcus, but continue crying.
Like always, he kneels down next to the bars. But this time his face isn't hard; he looks general perplexed.
"I don't understand how Jaeger was planning on using you."
I scoff, "Do you expect me to know, or something?"
"No, not really." He looks me up, "You honestly have no idea what's going on, do you?"
"Sure I do." Marcus' eyebrows shoot into his hairline. "You kidnapped me and my sister and my... Roommate-person, and plan on killing us for no reason."
He chuckles, "It wasn't for no apparent reason, birdie. Your boyfriend was going to use you against me, I just don't know how."
"Ha! Boyfriend. What a funny word. I just met Jaeger about... How long have I been here?"
What am I doing? How am I carrying on a conversation with this monster?
"About three weeks. Hmm.." He rubbed his chin and scratched the back of his head.
"Look, Marcus," I grip a bar in each hand and lean closer. "I really don't know what is going on. Just... Let me go. Please."
Marcus shakes his head, "I can't do that. Jaeger will find you, and if what he's planning works, then all I've worked on will fall apart."
"Surely you can take me somewhere far away, with Olivia and Tate. And we can pretend this never happened."
"Oh birdie," he breathes, also leaning close. "Life doesn't work like that."
"But--"
"And have you forgotten?" He wipes a tear from my cheek. "Tate's going to kill you."
I gasp and clamber away from the bars. My mouth is gaped open like a fish, continually opening and closing, as if I'm going to say something. But of course I can't say anything.
Marcus winks, "I'll catch ya later, birdie."
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