Worst Summer Ever... (Book 7 of Adopted by Jenna and Tyler Joseph)

17. Samantha

We were on the move again. I was lying on the back seat of the van because I felt so awful. I had a fever and was shivering, despite the blankets Mark had taken from the cabin.

My consciousness was fluid. I wasn't sure whether I was conscious or not half the time.

I didn't know where my prosthetic even was anymore. I didn't care anymore. I probably wasn't going to need it anyway. Not the way I was feeling now.

"How are you doing back there, sweetie?" My captor asked. I didn't answer. I couldn't. I couldn't form words anymore. Everything was distorted.

I fell asleep.

Mark was carrying me the next time I opened my eyes. Another seedy motel, I saw. I have no idea where we are. What state, what country?

He placed me on a bed and told me he'd be right back. He left the room.

He left the room.

I looked at the night table beside me. The telephone.

My consciousness was wavering but I forced myself to knock the receiver off and dialled the front desk.

I don't care if Mark finds me using the phone. If he doesn't kill me, whatever this is will.

"Front desk," the voice on the phone said.

"Help," I squeaked out.

"Hello? I can't hear you. Can you repeat that?"

"Please help. Please call 911. I'm Samantha Joseph," I said. Then I passed out again.

"What did you do?!" Mark was shaking me. "What the fuck did you do?"

I couldn't answer him. I closed my eyes. Let him kill me. I'd rather be dead anyway.

I heard banging and I heard muffled voices but everything seemed so far away. It doesn't concern me anymore.

"No!" I heard Mark yell. "She's mine! I'm not letting her go! Only I can keep her safe!"

"Mr. Solman, this is the Lincoln police! Open up!"

Huh. Lincoln. Thought he was long dead.

"I'm not giving her back!"

I passed out again.  I couldn't be bothered to stay conscious.

When I next opened my eyes I could see blue and red lights on the ceiling. Are we having a party? Excuse me if I don't feel in a party mood. I closed my eyes again.

More banging. It's really loud.

"Just answer the door," I mumbled.

"Shut up! This is your fault!"

How could a party be my fault?  Aren't parties meant to be fun?

"I'm cold," I shivered.

"Shut up. You have a blanket on. You're fine!"

"Solman! Open up!"

"No!"

He sounded like Rosie when Mom told her to take a bath.

"Is Samantha with you?"

"I'm not giving her up! She's my niece! Her so called parents can't keep her safe!  I can!"

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine!  I have her and she's doing just fine!"

"We'd like to ask her ourselves."

"She's sleeping! She needs her rest!"

I do. I do need my rest. I'm so tired.

"Mark?" I croaked out.

"Yes, sweetie?" He said, coming to my side and smoothing down my hair.

"I wanna go home," I said. Then I closed my eyes.

Sounds. Voices. Yelling. Shouting. Banging. Too much. It's too much.

People are touching me. They're moving me around. I think they're talking to me. I can't answer. I don't know what they're saying. I don't know if they're speaking English.

It's cold. So cold. I'm so cold.

I'm.

So.

Tired.

I want my Mom.

I want my Dad.

I want to go home.

"You're okay, sweetheart. You're okay," I heard a voice say. I don't recognize it.

"Mama?" I tried.

"No, sweetheart. But you're okay. You're safe. You're alright now."

"I want ... home," I think I managed.

The world stopped.

More voices. More light. Too much. Too much. Stop. Please stop.

There are so many voices. They're so loud. I can't open my eyes. I don't have the energy. I can't make out what anyone is saying. I don't know where I am.

I just want to go home. I just want to sleep. I just want quiet.

Finally. Silence.

It's quiet. It's dark. I'll stay here.

I just ...