Connection

Chapter Eighteen: Charlotte

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Chapter Eighteen: Charlotte

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The past week and a half had been the worst of her life. Whether or not what Graham had told her was meant as a warning or a threat, she never figured out, though he was definitely right.

It took only a few minutes for his words to prove true. The second she'd been thrown into the car Brooklyn began a lecture.

"Don't think we didn't hear about that little attempt at escape. Oh yes, we heard all about how you tried to freeze time while you ran away. But you didn't think you'd actually be able to fool an adult wizard, did you? You didn't actually think—" She laughed maliciously "—that you could truly beat the adults at their own game?"

"Last time I checked, I beat you pretty easily at 'your own game,'" Charlotte spat, her blood boiling. No one had a right to act so arrogantly when they'd done nothing to get there.

Just seconds after it left her mouth, Charlotte knew this was the wrong thing to say. Brooklyn's face froze and a charged silence hung over the car. The captors were looking at one another with wide eyes and everyone seemed on edge. Then, in a near-whisper, Brooklyn spoke.

"You will regret that." There was poison in her words and Charlotte knew that if she thought her life had been bad before this, now it would be living hell. And it was.

The rest of the ride passed in an eerie, apprehensive silence. Ross sat against the doors, his eyes boring into Charlotte's the entire time. The worst part of it was that Charlotte could do nothing except sit and think of all the possible things Brooklyn would do to make her feel pain.

By the time the van pulled to a screeching halt Charlotte's shirt was stuck to her torso by sweat and it was with shaking hands that she forced herself out of the car after Ross.

She was grabbed and pulled toward a gaping entrance to yet another cave. Through the darkness they stumbled. Charlotte had no clue where they were going or how far into this cave they were hiding. Brooklyn's sharp nails were pressed against Charlotte's back the whole time.

Eventually, they arrived at an area where it looked as if two rooms had been carved out. Charlotte was quickly ushered through the well lit and furnished first one and into the second, cold and dark room.

Brooklyn immediately pushed her to the ground. Charlotte groaned as her thin and weakened body hit the sharp surface.

"It's time you learned a few lessons," she snarled, squatting over Charlotte. A thin stream of water curled around Charlotte's wrist and she didn't dare move. Brooklyn watched maliciously as the water became paper-thin. Within seconds, it closed in so quickly it couldn't be seen moving.

The water hit with the sharpness of a razor, tearing the skin on Charlotte's arm. It stung, but not enough for Charlotte to visibly wince.

Brooklyn laughed and repeated the process, working up her arm. Blood trickled from the evenly spaced cuts, but Charlotte still kept her gaze staring straight forward. If she wanted Charlotte to show signs of pain, that would be the last thing she got.

"Oh, being Miss Tough Girl, are ya?" Brooklyn sneered. The water was curled in the air next to her head like a snake. Charlotte said nothing. "We'll see."

Charlotte then heard something she didn't expect. It was the tearing of fabric. Was Brooklyn tearing her shirt? Charlotte's eyebrows scrunched when the sweat-filled material was pressed tightly over Charlotte's mouth. Her eyes widened and instantly she squirmed. This wasn't making her feel pain; this was torture.