Borrowed Time

Chapter Eight

My stomach turns in on itself. I am somewhere between throwing up and sobbing. Maybe both. But I can't. I can't move. I can't breathe.

Even the tiniest sliver of hope that I may have had is gone. This is the end. He's come to take my time and I know that now.

“I didn't take anything.” I call for all the strength in my body to come to me, to let me make it through this sentence. To make me sound strong.

The corners of his pale lips curl into a smile. “Don't play games with me, Cecilia. You're wasting both of our time.”

“What do you want with me?” I ask, and I mean for it to sound angry, but I sound much more like Mae, all those days ago when she asked me who I was. What I wanted with her.

“I just want what is already mine. I want my time back and I intend to get it. But you're going to help me. We need to get old Dr. Barnes on our side, and who better to do it then one of his favorite little patients?”

“Why would I help you? Why would I help you kill me?” I demand, anger rising up in me like a pot about to boil over.

“My dear, the fate of your friend depends upon it.”

Just like that I lose all steam.

Jaden. That's why they took him too.

I blink a couple times. I have to decide now. There's no hope left for me. But there is for Jaden. They don't need him. They need me.

“You'll let him go?” I ask carefully.

“After what I ask has been completed.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“What choice do you have?”

He's right. My choice has already been made for me. I nod slowly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my words.

“That's a good choice, Cecilia, I will have Jonathan take you back to your cell.”

The man comes back in at the sound of his name and starts to drag me again.

“I can walk,” I say, retching my arm from his and stumbling to my feet. He begins to walk out and I follow wordlessly.

He leads me back to my cell and pushes me in with so much force it knocks me off my feet. I try to regain my balance but end up hitting my head on the floor when I fall. I wince and hold my head for support, closing my eyes to keep the world from spinning. There's warm blood on my hand when I pull it away, but I ignore it, wiping it on my jeans.

“Cecilia.” Jaden says softly, hovering over me. I flinch a little, looking away. I don't want that name anymore. I don't want to be Cecilia anymore.

“Ceal.” I tell him, still not looking at him as I scoot away, sitting against the wall.

“Ceal.” He amends, backing away as if he has been burned. “Is your head alright?”

“I'm fine.”

“What happened? Did they do something to you?”

I shake my head a little and wince as it begins to throb. “I'm fine,” I say, softer this time.

He kneels down next to me. “Let me look at your head,” he whispers.

“Okay.”

He brushes my hair away from my forehead and blinks a couple times. “You're bleeding.”

“I'm okay, pinky promise,” I say, but he's already removing his shirt. It all feels like a movie. It doesn't feel real. He rips off a strip of maroon fabric and ties it around my head like a headband.

“I saw it in a movie once.” He admits, his cheeks turning red. He pulls the remainder of the shirt back on, keeping his eyes on me.

“Then I'm sure it works.”

He cracks a small smile, sitting against the wall next to me. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“No,” I whisper, because it's true. I don't want to tell him. I don't want him to know. He can't know.

“Okay,” he says and the silence that follows is one that I am almost afraid to break. My eyelids begin to feel heavy at some point and I yawn quietly. Without a word, I get up, wobbling a little, and go to lay down on the mattress I'd woken up on earlier.

“Don't sleep.”

I look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“You might have a concussion, you shouldn't sleep,” he replies, his eyes boring into me.

“I'm fine.” This seems to have become my catch phrase of the day.

“You won't be if you fall into a coma.”

“Let's make a deal.” I say, yawning and resting my head gently on my pillow. “You'll let me sleep this one time, and I promise not to fall into a coma.”

“It doesn't work like that, Cec—Ceal,” he says, changing my name half way through.

“My head doesn't even hurt that much.” I've lost track of my lies.

“I'll let you sleep, but I'm going to wake you up in like ten minutes, okay? To make sure you're still alright.”

I mumble something in return and close my eyes again, trying to clear my head of all thoughts. But I can feel Jaden's eyes against my back. I can still hear Belarus's words, like daggers in me. Ringing like church bells; echoing like a lonely voice under a bridge. You're wasting our time.