Wake Up ||ONC 2021|| GxG

16. Pffft, Lars

Esme had ever been so happy to feel the pounding headache of a hangover. Even the worry of what bad decisions she'd made the night before at the bar faded in the relief that she'd had a crazy alcohol induced dream. It was just a dream. She wriggled slightly and raised her hands over her head to stretch. She tried to anyway.

The rope looped tightly around her wrists pulled her sharply back to the reality of her situation. She groaned under her breath. Her throat was so dry it felt like just that noise was going to tear it to pieces. The throbbing in her skull picked up to a spinning that made her stomach turn. She fought back the nausea, barely.

"Esmerelda?" The voice that called out to her was so soft, Esme almost didn't hear it over the pounding of her own pulse. But she felt the hand that brushed hers.

"Nevaeh?" Esme stretched her fingers searchingly behind her. She felt the familiar faint scars on Nevaeh's fingertips and stretched her hand further to lace her fingers through hers, "Are you alright?"

"That's not exactly the word I'd use," Nevaeh sighed. She rubbed her thumb over Esme's as much as the awkward positioning would allow.

"Fair," Esme agreed wearily. She blinked her eyes as she looked around the small space slowly Anything faster than a gentle swivel turned her stomach.

There wasn't much to look at. The room wasn't particularly dirty which she was thankful for, but she doubted it had been used in some time. The only thing beside the chairs the two women had been secured to, was a rolling cart with a scattering of medical supplies. Esme's eyebrow rose up slightly and her mouth parted in a small 'o' when she noticed the fresh bandages on her leg and arms.

"Have they said anything to you?" Esme asked, eyes raking over the door.

"No, not really. They've been sort of... hospitable," she replied. "They were especially eager to get you taken care of."

"I can see that." Esme tugged at the binding, scratching the fingers of her free hand over the rope. It was thick, and new, no wear and tear to be felt anywhere. It wouldn't be breaking anytime soon.

"I'm sure they'll be by soon enough, now that you're awake," Neveah said. Her hand in Esme's shook. "They were checking more often earlier."

"How long has it been?"

"No idea, a few hours maybe," Neveah nodded towards the small window set high in the wall to her left. "Sun hasn't started to rise."

"And... Easton?" Esme clenched her jaw, waiting for the answer she knew had to be coming.

"Esme," Nevaeh began, her head turning as far as she could to try and see at least part of Esme's face. The door creaked open before she could continue.

"It's about time you woke up," her father grumbled as he entered. The hallway was visible through the small crack in the door. There were a few other faces out there and Esme was surprised to find she recognized some of them. The man who made brief eye contact with her especially tugged at something in her, something that wanted to see him hurt. A name danced at the tip of her tongue, but he was gone before she could think of it.

"It's about time you shut up," Esme said mockingly, attention returning to her 'father'. She straightened up in her seat, chin jutting up a bit. "When are you going to let us go?"

"That is entirely up to you Esmerelda," he answered. He leaned out into the hallway and pulled in a folding chair. The metal hinges squeaked as he set it up to sit across from her and the entire frame protested him taking a seat. "You are the only person in possession of a particular set of locations that we would very much like to know."

"Well sorry, dad." She shuddered. "Can I have a different name for you? Dad sounds disgusting."

"Lars will do," he offered.

"Lars?" Esme sniggered. "Seriously? No one is named Lars."

"Actually, I have a nephew named Lars," Nevaeh told her. The room went silent for a moment before Esme's chair creaked as she turned slightly.

"Could you not?" Esme huffed.

"Moving on," Lars prompted, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees. "The locations."

"Don't know them," Esme said, shrugging her shoulders. She tilted her head, meeting his gaze head on. "And you staring at me like that isn't going to suddenly make me remember."

"You must remember something by now. Why else would they have sent someone to collect you?" Lars argued.

"Because you sent someone. Scratch that, you didn't send anyone, you already had me," Esme countered. "Which is the part I don't understand. You already had me, why not just wait for me to spill the beans? I'm sure you have ways of getting it out of me, but instead you set up an entire fake life for me. That's actually insane."

"Trust me, it wasn't my idea," Lars sighed. "But you were like a wild animal those first few days we had you. When you weren't sedated you were clawing at people like a wild animal."

A chill rushed up Esme's spine. Images from just a few hours ago played back in front of her mind. She could still feel the ache in her fingers from where she'd clawed at the people restraining her. Beneath the fresh memories lurked blurrier images. A gurney, her fingers bleeding as she tore through the straps and pulled her way free, bones snapping under her grip.

She shifted uneasily as if she could feel the prick of their needle again and the rush of the cold liquid flooding her system. For a moment she could see herself reflected back in a broken mirror, her hair a wild cloud and pupils only pinpricks. A wild animal.

"You remember, don't you?" Lars leaned forward, not bothering to hide his excitement. "As much as I wanted to hate you, there was something impressive about your tenacity. You'd be a good asset to any team. I'm sure the agency could be persuaded to find a place for you."

"Why does it sound like that place would be a shallow grave?" Nevaeh interrupted. Her voice brought Esme back to the present like a physical slap.

"I don't think graves are their style. They strike me as midnight drop offs in the middle of the ocean kind of people," Esme joked. She shook her head slowly. "I wouldn't tell you whatever it is I'm keeping to myself even if I knew it."

"You will," Lars stood and moved to the cart by the door. Beneath the bandages and rubbing alcohol, Esme could make out the sharp edges of a switchblade. Her breath hitched and she reached for Nevaeh's hand again. "You may not want to, but you will."

"And what if I can't remember?" she whispered.

"Then that is very unfortunate for you, for both of you," he replied.

Lars approached them slowly, his eyes drifting over her bare feet on the ground and the way she'd planted them against the ground. Esme watched him, tracking him like a dangerous snake. Any moment he'd be close enough to do some damage, but she doubted it would be her hurting him. If she could just undo the ropes, she would stand a better chance.

He was nearly there, the blade extending out painfully slowly. A commotion outside the door gave them all pause. Lars looked between them and the door and groaned. "Sit tight ladies, I'll be back." He stormed out, only pausing long enough to toss the knife back onto the cart. The door slammed closed behind him and Esme smiled.

"You ready to get out of here?"