I’m grabbed from behind with an arm around my waist, and my feet are lifted off the floor. I scream out as I’m tossed onto a hard surface. Dust billows up around me from what I now realize is a mattress, making me cough. Someone straddles my hips and reaches down to his jeans. I get a look at his face through what hair covers my eyes to see it’s not Law.
“Scout!” I shriek. “Scout, get off me!” I shout, my hands shoving at his chest. He doesn’t budge. I kick and try to buck him off with no success. My movements are sluggish, my body too weak.
He rips the belt from his jeans and grabs my wrists in one quick motion. After tying the belt around my wrists, he then shoves them above my head.
I’m screaming, fighting him any way that I can, but it does me no good. Once my wrists are secured to the metal headboard above my head, he grips my chin roughly. “Shh,” he says softly.
I’m panting, heart racing, and blood rushes in my ears. “What are you …?” His grip tightens on my chin, and I whimper.
“Shh.” He brings his free hand up and runs his knuckles down my cheek, gently pushing the hair from my face. “What would you do if I left you here?”
“What?” I begin to panic more than I already was and will my body to wake up. To fight harder. It doesn’t listen. “Please, no.”
“You know a human can go three days without water.” He looks up at the cracked and busted ceiling. You can see all the way through the roof to the sky in some places. “But it’s supposed to rain tomorrow. And the roof leaks. I think you could make it five days before I need to bring you water.”
“Please …” I beg. My eyes fill with tears as I jerk on the belt. This old bed shouldn’t be this strong. Or I’m just too weak. They had to have drugged me. But with what?
“You know what a body does when it is forced to go without water? Food?” Scout demands.
“Scout … don’t do this.” I swallow. “Please …”
“When you have to lie in a bed covered in your own piss and shit?” His voice rises. “Do you?”
“No.” I sob. My heart pounding so hard it feels like my chest might explode. “I don’t.”
“How long could I leave you here before you’d choose death over living?” Scout asks, lowering his voice.
My eyes widen, his words starting to make sense of what Law was saying. I understand. The boys here at Spring Valley. They weren’t taken care of. They were tortured. Treated poorly. Tied to their bed. Starved. Slept in their own urine just to keep warm at night. I’d set this place on fire too. Now he’s going to do it to me. “Please …”
He slaps a hand over my mouth, shoving me farther into the roach-infested mattress. “Law?” he calls out, reminding me that we’re not alone here. I almost forgot about him. Where are Rellik and Dax? I haven’t seen or heard them.
“Yeah?” I hear his voice over to the left but can’t see him due to the shadows.
“How long can someone survive without food?” Scout asks curiously.
“Research on the matter is … insignificant.” Law sighs, sounding disappointed. “But anywhere between eight to twenty-one days.”
Scout gets a cruel smile on his face as his eyes bore into mine. “Eight to twenty-one days? What would you do if I left you here, tied to this bed for that long, doll?”
I try to shake my head, but his hand clamped over my mouth prevents any movement. My shoes scratch against the mattress as I kick my legs, but he doesn’t budge.
“As long as I come by and give you a sip of water every three days, I think we could stretch it to months.”
My chest tightens like a vise, making it hard to breathe through my already snotty nose while tears run down my face.
“I like a challenge,” he continues. “But the question is, are you a fighter, Henley? Would you find a way to escape? Or would you lie here and sob like a little bitch?” He lowers his face to mine. “Let’s give it a try.” He removes his hand from my mouth.
“Scout.” I suck in a deep breath. “Don’t do this!”
He gets up off me.
I yank on his belt, the bed scrapes across the floor, and I feel hopeful that I’m regaining a little bit of strength back. “Let me go!” My throat closes.
Law finally comes into view, and I arch my back and neck to watch him come to stand at the head of the bed. He reaches into his back jeans pocket and pulls out a set of handcuffs.
I stiffen.
He tosses them to Scout.