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Page 2 of Fixation of the Mind

My breathing came out labored as I bounced between my head and heart. Sitting here with only my thoughts was making me jittery. I needed to get up, walk around, physically get this all out so it didn’t overtake me.

Yanking on my restraints did nothing for me. Whoever had tied this made it so tight I couldn't fit even a finger between. I moved my legs around, trying to see if there was anything on the ground that could help. If I found something, I could tip the chair over and maybe reach it with my fingers.

A creak came from somewhere in the room, and I froze. This time, the steps were light and careful. I waited, wondering what was going to happen, then I felt the bag lift a little, the end pulled right up to my nose.

“Drink,” the artificial voice said, and someone lifted a glass to my lips. I didn't realize how water starved I was until the first drop hit my lips. Without a care, I gulped the cool, refreshing drink, finally able to cleanse the cotton mouth I had been suffering since waking up.

“Thank you,” was all I replied after they let me finish the cup. I thought the exchange was over, but then a few steps came closer. Something brushed up against the bag next to my face.

The last thing I expected my captor to say was, “I left him a breadcrumb. He’ll come for you.”

My heart stopped, my eyes roaming around as if I could glean any small details through the fabric, but it was no use. What could they have possibly meant by that? I reiterated the words in my head. They’d said “he.” My mind circled before it reminded me of something. The triplets were pretending to be one person, R. Ambros. Was that the “he” my captor was referring to?

Just when I was about to ask them, the door banged open, and several sets of steps followed. Everything went silent except for those looming hard clicks of high-heeled shoes that were heading in my direction.

I didn't speak, didn't move, waiting for the impending doom that seemed to fill the air. The clacks stopped, followed by the sound of several people bringing stuff in. Each bang or clank was more and more confusing. What were they doing? Were they preparing to kill me right here? The beating in my chest grew thunderous as my mind ran wild with all of the commotion.

The seconds dragged out even though it probably only took a few minutes before someone yanked the bag off my head. I winced, disoriented by the blinding light that was pointed in my face.

“Are you Layrin Smith?”

I didn't answer at first, rapidly blinking to clear up the haze clouding my eyes, trying to get a grasp on the situation as fast as I could. The only thing I could make out was the dark shadows of a lady in front of me and the two people standing by her sides.

“Are you deaf?”

The question came out swift and curt like the last one, and it really irritated me. If this was going to be an interrogation, then fuck it.

“Give me a damn second to get acclimated, then I can answer the stupid question you already know the answer to.”

Although there was no reaction, it felt like all the air was sucked out of the room, and that made me smirk. I guessed she wasn't used to being talked back to. I let go of my fears, accepting that I was most likely going to die after her questioning. There was no way they would let me go free after this because I would be a liability. So, I pulled out my street card and cashed out. I could fake it ‘til I made it like the best of them.

Time ticked by, then I heard her heavy exhale. “You’ve got a mouth on you.”

Puffing out a laugh, I grinned at the blinding light. “Well, you got the upper hand, so why not be a bitch and give you a hard time?” I rolled my neck before finishing with, “And yes, I am Layrin Smith.”

A quiet clank hit the ground in front of me, and I looked down. Before I could figure out what had fallen, she called out with a bite, “Where did you get that?”

I narrowed my eyes on the shiny thing, trying to make it out. With the light pointing at me, it was impossible. A moment later, the light was turned down, and my heart stopped. On the floor was my necklace.

Instinctually, I yanked against my bound arms, desperation creeping up my chest as my fingers twitched, wanting to grab the necklace back as fast as I could.

“That's mine.” I couldn't hide the distress in my voice, and it pissed me off.

“Did you steal it?” Her accusing tone made me want to rip my arms off and charge at her. Instead, I had to settle for letting my wrath fill my veins as my chest rose and fell.

First, my friend died, then the only people I’d trusted all my life betrayed me, and now I was kidnapped and labeled as a dirty thief by some strange mystery person. I was up to my ears with how tired and fed up I was with my life. Fear, pain, desperate curiosity, all of those feelings sank to the bottom as I growled, “It's the only thing that's truly mine. Give it back, bitch!”

Everything stopped, everything but my heavy breathing and wrathful gaze pointed in the direction of the bitch that had brought me here. It was obvious that she was in charge, so that meant she had to have something against me.

The ghost of a whisper hit my ears. “You do remind me of her…” The voice trailed off with a hint of nostalgia, and I was thrown off my high, angry horse.

Before I could demand someone give it back to me, pops of gunfire went off. I flinched at the familiar sound, and raised voices echoed from outside. Before anyone could do anything, the stone wall to the side of me was blown open.

Turning my face away to avoid any debris, I was surprised when only a cloud of dust fell over the whole room. Footsteps sounded to my right, and several people coughed at the micro bits of dust being lodged in their throats.

“Just like the Riccis to hide on a farm like a rat.”

My heart surged. I knew the owner of that voice. While I was pissed at him for so many things, I couldn't stop my pure joy at hearing his voice right now.




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