Fool Me Twice, Shame On Me

Chapter 7

Groaning, Morgan began to wake up. She tried to open her eyes, but her head was pounding so hard she had to squeeze her eyes shut just to try and dull the pain. She went to bring a hand to her forehead to try and rub away the pain, but then a sharp pain shot through her wrist. This made her open her eyes with a gasp.

"Fuck," she whispered, looking down at her wrist. It was handcuffed to the armrest of a chair, and when she pulled on it, she had broken the delicate skin on the back of her wrist. She hissed in pain when she tried to move it again, then laid her head back with another groan.

"Hey." A faint voice in front of her caught her attention. She quickly looked at him, her jaw dropping. "Greg!" She called in surprise and happiness, smiling at him. Then, once she saw his injuries, her smile slipped off her face and was replaced with a face of worry. "Greg?" She asked again, quieter this time. Greg had winced when she called his name the first time, and based on his head injury, it looked like he might've had a mild concussion, she assessed. Therefore, she'd have to speak softly if she didn't want to hurt him.

"Are you okay?" They both asked at the same time, chuckling slightly.

"I'm alright," Greg said quietly. "It looks worse than it is. You?"

Morgan bit her lip, her headache slowly fading away. Thankfully, she didn't have a concussion. She looked to her wrist. "That's my only problem right now."

Greg groaned, laying back on the bed that he was tied to. Morgan could see ligature marks on his hands and his bare ankles, but only his right wrist was handcuffed to the metal bedframe. "They're mentally torturing me," he said, immediately regretting saying it out loud.

"How?" Morgan asked, her cheeks burning with an assumption.

Greg turned to look at her, then wordlessly shooted as far towards Morgan as he could, his wrist pulling on the handcuff. He reached out his left hand as far as he could. Morgan stretched out her fingers, and there was barely two inches of space between them. Greg recoiled, pulling back to rub his wrist. "See what I mean?" He looked down, refusing to make eye contact. "You're in pain, and I have the supplies to help you get better, but they decide to torture me by making sure I'm close enough to see you, but not close enough to help you."

Morgan sighed, lowering her head. It was hurting her, too. And not just her wrist.

She was about to say something, when the noise of the four different locks on the door began to turn. Greg and her stared at them silently, both of their heartbeats echoing in their ears. They braced themselves for something to come barging through, but were surprised when the door opened just enough for someone to slip through.

"Greg!" The man said, practically running over to his side. Morgan watch with suspicion as Greg didn't shy away from him.

"Adam, this is Morgan." Greg whispered to him. Adam turned to her.

"It's nice to meet you Morgan," Adam said, smiling. Then his look turned sour, looking down. "Just not under these circumstances."

Morgan nodded in understanding. She wasn't going to be polite to some stranger who kidnapped them. Maybe Greg had stockholm syndrome already. She sighed inwardly. If so, how were they going to be rescued?

"I came in here to warn you guys." Adam said quietly, glancing at the door. "Sam's going to be in here any minute now. He went out with his buddies about an hour ago, and my guess is that he's either going to be drunk and angry, or maybe he'll be drunk and calm. There's the slightly possibility he's not drunk, but with him, that's hardly ever the case."

Morgan just stared at him in wonder. Why in the world was this guy giving up valuable information like this guy's name? Was he another captive? Was he just messing with their brains?