Shut Up and Kiss Me

Chapter 7: My Mistake

  A deep burning began in my chest. I attempted to ignore it. I didn't remove my eyes from Brice's back. I hated him with a passion I wasn't sure anyone could match. He and a couple others were leading me through the maze of tents. I pressed a hand against my chest when the burning worsened, but the pain didn't abate. Breathing seemed to be the problem. It wasn't helped by our swift pace.

  Coming here had been a mistake. They probably wouldn't let me see Ben at all. For all I knew, Brice was lying to me and Ben was already dead. Agony swept through me at that thought, so I purged it from my mind. They'd torture me for information and then kill us both. I'd sentenced Ben and I to death.

  Taking me to talk with someone meant I'd be speaking to someone with more power than Brice. I could tell by the set of his shoulders that he wasn't happy with wherever we were going. That gave me some small sense of satisfaction. At least Brice wasn't getting his way. Anything that pissed him off definitely made me happy; a bit overjoyed if I was being honest.

  We came to a stop outside one of the generic tents. I probably should've been paying more attention to its location among the others, but the agony in my chest was distracting and my motor controls were becoming more and more restricted. Maybe I'd be dead before we even got to the torture part...if I was lucky. Brice faced me, shaking me from my thoughts.

  "You don't look so good." He said, smirking.

  "It's none of your fucking concern."

  Anyone else and I probably would've bit back my retort, but I couldn't let Brice look down on me and I despised him more than any other person on this planet.

  Brice set his jaw, but the smug look never left his face. "I'm the one who put the bullets in you, sweetheart." He said, leaning in. "I know what they do. The only thing I'm concerned with is how long you have left." 

  He paused to look me up and down. "And, by the looks of it, you don't have much."

  My lips set in a hard line. Brice was right and I didn't have the energy to argue. He seemed satisfied with my silence.

  "You better get in there before you fall down." He said, jerking his head back towards the entrance to the tent while his eyes never left mine.

  I imagined punching him square in the face, breaking his nose, and watching him bleed and wished I was actually physically capable of it at this moment. I stared detestingly at Brice for another minute before forcing myself into the tent.

  It was just as homey in this tent as being inside my house usually was. It made me slightly uneasy. The lights were bright enough to see by, but dim enough to make this a cozy setting. I might've relaxed more if it weren't for the air of business that radiated around the figure behind the desk. He looked up at me, stretching to his full height. It was intimidating despite the fact that he was only an inch or so taller than me. He had broad shoulders and dark eyes.

  I dug my fingernails into my palm, trying not to pass out. I focused on his face, hoping to identify him. His brown hair reminded me of Jasper's, falling just below his ears and no doubt tickling the nape of his neck. His chin and cheeks were also scruffy with the early form of a beard. His appearance gave no indication of who he was, however.

  He stepped around his desk and closer to me. He looked me over and I noticed the way his skin crinkled around his eyes. He was much older than me, probably close to my dad's age, but you couldn't tell from far away.

  "Marissa Reynolds." He said, his expression impassive and his tone neutral, but curious. I felt as if he were scrutinizing me deep to the bone, assessing me for something. He knew my full name which was never a good sign.