The fly home was rough to say the least. A storm hit us halfway there, and the turbulence was insane. I had to be strapped in multiple times. But eventually we did land safely back in California. Luckily I was no longer naked, but instead had a hospital gown. I expected to be wheeled out into a hospital or something, but I was less surprised to be back at the building I was before. However, this time not being blindfolded, I could see the whole building. It was geometric and modern. With blacked out windows all the way around. The walls were white, and there were tall trimmed hedges that blocked the tall black pointed fence. They brought me back into the building, as I continued to observe everything around me. The orchids, the front desk with an overly attractive secretary, and the most futuristic looking material I've seen. I was being wheeled by a paramedic, who quickly took a right hand turn to go into an elevator. She loaded me on, pressed a button, and stepped out. I shot upward, not missing the feeling of helplessness at all. But when the doors opened up, I was more than surprised to see Gale standing proudly for me to look at. "Hello, gorgeous." He said with a smirk that tore me apart inside. He made a point of going behind me and pulling my wheelchair out into the same room I'd been in weeks ago. He plopped down in his leather spinny chair, and supported his chin with his forearm that was set on the arm of the chair. "So I understand that there was an incident." He said slyly, looking over his manicured fingernails. His black gelled hair was slicked back and unmoving by the gentle breeze of a fan in the corner of the office. I gulped.
"They... They were shot. And I-" I was cut off from my struggling sentence.
"No no. You couldn't have done anything. Quite honestly, they would've been killed when they got back for being in such a situation." I cocked my head. Punished for being in danger?
There was a silence.
"Look. It was your first mission. I get it. But if I ever hear about you collaborating with a terrorist again, you'll be put down. Do you understand?" Gale said sternly. It felt like one of those moments where your parents were talking to you, but they said they were just disappointed.
I sighed. Why did I feel bad? There was a long, drawn out pause. "Do. You. Understand." He spoke sternly, emphasizing each word through gritted teeth. I nodded.
"I understand."
"Good. Now that we're past that, let's get you back downstairs, because you have a lot more to talk about with Beau." He walked up to me and flipped my wheelchair around, but when I attempted to lift my arms up, I realized they were strapped down with small leather straps, which explained why I was always placed in a wheelchair, even when it was unneeded. How did I just now notice this? I slowly rocked back and forth, attempting to wriggle my wrists free, but to no avail. I knew that Gale realized what was going on as he wheeled me down the hall full of shuffling nurses, but I decided that he didn't want to crush my rebellious spirit. Once we reached the elevator, he spun me into the small holding cell, and before the doors closed with a snicker he said "Let's not have to meet again." And that was it. The doors shut, and a silent whizzing carried me down to the floor of the other girls, with the rooms that seemed to never end. Once the doors slid silently open, I was greeted by a set of metal bars, and in front of it was a big, buff man. He looked in his mid twenties, and had a blonde buzz cut. He was obviously on steroids from the immense size of his biceps. He gripped my shoulder with a stern grip and picked me up, wheelchair and all, moving me directly in front of the bars. He unlocked a few locks, scanned his hand, and typed in a passcode before the gate slid open. He violently unstrapped my forearms and aggressively threw me into the open smooth concrete floors. I stayed face down, waiting for anything to happen. Once the ringing in my ears died down, I glanced up to the sound of distant chatter. There were the same group of girls, I realized that they saw me when they began silencing their talking. One girl with dark brown skin and oddly long black hair walked over, seeming more confident than her physique suggested. She didn't slow as she neared within inches of my scalp, and bent down to grip my hair in her perfectly manicured hands. I squealed, holding onto her wrists as she dragged me effortlessly across the floor. I kicked and squirmed, hoping she would release me, which she did once she reached a opening within the group of girls. She practically threw my hair down to the floor, and I immediately put my hand on my scalp to ease the pain. It was damp with blood and my hands were tainted in orange. I looked up to see the girl who'd dragged me, and with her back towards me, she rolled up her sleeves. There was a blonde girl, much shorter than the dark skinned one, trying to talk to her, but she was being consistently ignored. "Sasha, stop!" The blonde girl begged, grabbing Sasha's forearm. Sasha tore away and turned to face me, nostrils flaring and eyes bulging. She reached down and snagged the collar of my shirt, and punched me in the jaw the hardest I've ever been hit. My head fell back and I was dropped to the floor. The lights were spinning in circles and the screams around me were blurred. "Sasha!" Someone screamed bloody murder, and though I tried to look, I couldn't physically lift my neck. I moaned, hoping someone would come to my aid. I turned my head just enough to see the puddle of blood forming underneath my skull. I didn't realized it, but Sasha had picked me back up, this time by my arms, and I was once again being dragged. There were girls lunging onto both Sasha and I, desperately trying to slow us down. Suddenly, a wave went up my spine, and it made me feel ice cold. I coughed, spitting out blood, and turned my neck to look at Sasha, who was behind me dragging me. Magically, everything came back to consciousness and as if by instinct, I thrusted forward and shot my legs around Sasha's, taking her down and leaving me sitting on top of her. She didn't seem shocked, just pissed, while I straddled her and held her arms down with one hand above her head. With the other, I punched her in the nose twice before being pulled off by a guard who'd finally realized the brawl. Sasha's nose was utterly destroyed. It was crooked, and the bone was sticking out, her two nostrils were so deformed that you couldn't tell they were there. Her eyes were immediately swollen into disgusting purple-black eyes. Blood was pouring like a faucet, and it ran down her legs onto the hard concrete floor. The security guard was talking loudly into a walkie talkie "It's one-a Beau's girls. I think you should come see this." He dragged me away from Sasha while another girls inspected he. She was gasping and crying for air, her chest was going up and down as if some invisible being was applying CPR. I blinked heavily as Beau broke through the bars that once released me into the room. He rushed to my side and lifted me up, gently placing his hand on the back of my neck. "I should've known..." he whispered. The guard whispered something to Beau, and they both seemed worried. "Look." he spoke only to me. "I need you to stay in your room for awhile, ok?" I nodded, understanding that it could potentially save my life. "Why'd they do it?" I managed to cough out. "Sasha was Tabitha's friend. All Sasha knows is that Tabitha left with you, and never came back." Beau responded blankly, but firmly. He picked me up and started carrying me to the stairwell as screams of offense came from the group of girls behind us. I blinked it off as we rounded the corner to the garage door that held my sleeping arrangement. Beau clicked the door open with presumably a key, and laid me on my bed. It was dim, and I could still hear the sounds of the anger downstairs. Hair bombarded my mouth, and Beau pulled out a pile of goz from a bag I didn't realize he had. He began dabbing my lips with it, and then my scalp. He stopped mid-press, and looked at me. My eyes were swollen, my lip was sliced, and I had a chunk of hair torn from my head. But Beau leaned in to me. We were breathing each others air. It was dim, and it was silent, like the feeling I had the night I spent under that truck. And Beau kissed me. It was fast and it was passionate, a peck against my lips, stinging the cut I was inflicted. And with that, Beau stood up and left. His figure disappearing into the havoc being done outside the safety of my cell.
