Page 17 of Aine

Her head lowers as he speaks, her cheeks reddening as she gives a curt nod. She’s on her feet a second later, her food long forgotten as she tosses it in the trash and rushes out of the building. I frown at her departure, upset to once more be alone with Damien. He continues to ignore my presence as he eats, his eyes locked on the back wall as he makes his way through his plate.

I’m relieved when a man approaches and begins to converse with him, distracting him enough for me to slip away in search of a napkin. Some of the hot grease from my food found its way into the cut on my knee, and the burn is intense.

Grabbing the wheels of my chair, I roll backward and turn toward the kitchen. There’s got to be some sort of rag in there I can use.

Damien doesn’t seem to notice I’ve left, which I love. It’s nice to have a moment to myself. I spot a paper towel roll sitting on the counter next to the sink and carefully make my way over to it. I have to push up out of my seat a bit to grab the roll, but once I have one within my grip, I drop back down and run the towel under the faucet.

I squeeze out the extra water before bringing the towel to my leg, carefully running it over my stitches. The action is a bit painful but brings almost immediate relief to my cut.

My wheelchair spinning has me gasping, my head snapping upward to meet the angry eyes of Damien.

“What’re you doing?” His jaw clenches as he glares at the paper towel in my hand.

I shrug, figuring what I’m doing is pretty obvious. “I spilled grease on my leg.”

Damien’s mouth twitches as I answer him, his pupils expanding as he stares at my wound. My fear skyrockets at the change, frightened it’s a sign he’s shifting into his beast. I remain stiff as he circles me, his steps slow and cautious.

He pauses once he’s behind me, and I have just enough time to gulp before Damien’s pushing me out of the room, his conversation with the other man long forgotten.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my fingers curling around the armrests of my chair.

Damien doesn’t answer—unsurprising at this point—and remains quiet as he pushes me outside and into the forest. I try not to let my panic show, but I’m positive he can see it through my whitened knuckles and tense posture.

He continues to lead me through the woods in silence, his pace unrelenting until he abruptly veers to the left in the direction of the hospital. My body relaxes only slightly as he pushes me through the front door, relieved that he isn’t taking me to some undisclosed location to kill me.

I spot the bed I stayed in as soon as we enter, but Damien wheels me down the hallway instead.

My lips purse when he pushes me into a basic-looking hospital room, and Damien sets me in the center of it.

“Stay here,” he orders before turning and leaving.

I nod, not that it’s of any use. He’s already gone. I trace my finger along the chair’s armrest, tired of his bad attitude and wanting nothing more than to be back in my shitty cabin. It’s cold and smelly in there, but at least there’s no Damien.

My eyes narrow when he storms back into the room, his frown growing. I attempt to roll away from him, and I let out a squawk as he grabs my waist and pulls me from the seat. I’m both disorientated and annoyed by his actions, and another unattractive noise emerges from my lips as he not-so-gently drops me onto the hospital bed.

“So you can’t escape again.” He makes eye contact with me as he stretches his arm and pushes my chair. It rolls toward the back wall, coming to a halt far enough away that I won’t be able to shuffle over to it.

I scowl at the object, filled with anger as I take in Damien’s snarky smirk.

He turns and flees without another word, leaving me with my mouth open as I try to think of something clever to say. He’s gone before anything good comes to mind, and I glare at the hallway he disappeared into.

Glancing at the chair, I try to calculate how hard it would be to walk to it. I could try to grab objects to steady myself along the way, but the last thing I need is to fall or get too tired to complete the journey and end up on the floor.

I wait for what feels like forever, my anxiety only rising the longer I’m in here. Nobody comes, though, and after a while, I lie back on the bed. The ceiling is painted a crisp white, and in sheer boredom, I begin to count the tiles, keeping my ears open for any signs of life in the hallway.

I’m almost at three hundred before I hear footfalls. Sitting up, I spot Damien and Jenna walking down the hallway, the giant smile on her face a drastic difference from his scowl.

He refuses to look at me as he approaches, his long legs carrying him past my room and toward the exit. He doesn’t look back as he leaves, the door slamming shut behind him.

I turn to Jenna.

“I’m glad to see you,” I say, embarrassed only slightly by the obvious excitement in my voice.

She laughs, shaking her head as she lifts her hand. My eyes follow the movement and land on a large blood bag held tightly within her fist.

“Look what I’ve got!” she exclaims, shaking the thing in my face.

I look wearily between her and the blood, unsure why she’s so excited to be holding it.