Finding Lily

9- Alex

The man standing in front of me had a knife in his hand. Gripped tightly in his fist, his shoulders tense, looking like he was about to pounce.

"If I cut you loose, will you come with me?" His words were rushed.

"Why?"

"Just trust me."

He had to have known how bad of an answer that was. I didn't know who he was. Why would I blindly trust a stranger that might have been the reason I was tied up in the first place.

I tried to think about it. Logic was never hard to uncover, but it was now. I swallowed as bile crept up my throat. I blinked, looked at the man again, then realized I didn't know where I was.

"Who are you?"

He narrowed his eyes. I swayed once in my chair, my face contorting at the pain. I couldn't figure out why my hands were bound, and I tugged at them with what limited strength I had left.

The man was behind me before I realized he moved. My constraints were broken by the blade of the knife, and I stood. The vomit that had been looking to escape came up as soon as I did, the man somehow getting out of the way before any of it landed on him.

I looked at him after wiping off my mouth. "Sorry."

I couldn't move very fast. He figured that out pretty quickly and gathered me up into his arms, wedding style. Consciousness left me as soon as we left the basement, and didn't come back until we were on a beach.

****

I clenched my fist in the sand. Microscopic bits of shell and rock slipped through my fingers, exfoliating my skin. Rays of sunlight warmed me while the breeze kept me cool. Seagulls squawked overhead as the melodic sound of waves soothed my soul. My hair was down, knotted and fanned around my skull, mixing with the sand that I was laying on.

Eventually, the sensation of pain came back as well. The throbbing in my head. The dizziness that made up seem like down and north feel like west. My arm was sore, like every muscle inside had cramped up all at once, weighing it down.

When I sat up, I was facing the ocean. I looked at my bicep and saw it had been cleaned and wrapped. My long sleeve shirt had been stripped off and made into a sling. The tank top that remained was tight and damp, as were my pants. I looked around slowly so as not to disturb my fragile brain, taking in the jagged cliffs that surrounded me. The beach was small, maybe ten feet squared, with nothing but twenty foot tall walls of rock surrounding it.

Sitting against one side, with his knees propped up, was Luke.

"Hi." He said. I blinked, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me. I racked my brain for an explanation as to why I was sitting on a beach. With him. "How do you feel?"

"Fine." I replied.

"What's your name?"

"Alex."

"Do you remember how you got here?"

I closed my eyes for a minute. I remembered Felix. I remembered Ray and the basement, and how each of my injuries came about. The fuzzy part involved the guy sitting in front of me. The guy who apparently saved me, cleaned my wound, and had been looking after me ever since.

To say I was suspicious was an understatement.

"Who the hell are you?" I moved to the opposite side of the beach, standing up against the rocks, holding onto them for support.

Luke stood too, keeping his arms raised, wearing an expression that attempted to convey his innocence. "Careful. I'm just trying to help."

"Why?"