Leaving my wound, I dug through the box before becoming too dizzy from holding myself upright. The concussion theory seemed most plausible. I slumped to the ground beside the box, resigned to another non-con nap, when a familiar feminine voice interrupted me.
“Damn, Claire, what the fuck happened to your head?”
I gasped wildly, my hand flying to my throat. The tangles in her long blonde hair looked like they may never come out. She had two black eyes and a fat lip but generally looked to be okay.
“Mila!” I gasped far too loudly.
“Claire, keep it down! Fuck, you're going to get us killed.” She dropped to her knees in front of me, holding her hands out to get me to speak quieter.
“Are you okay? What happened to you?” I reached up, touching a lock of her blonde hair. It was dirty and tangled, but she looked primarily okay. She gently pulled my fingers out of her hair, and I realized it was odd that I had held it for so long.
“What happened tome? Claire, your head is cracked open, and you're acting like you’re shitfaced. I'm pretty sure they broke your brain, drugged you, or both.” She grabbed my chin to turn my head and inspect the wound. I winced at the rapid movement in my stiff neck.
“I don’t think they drugged me, but I believe I have a concussion.”
“You look half dead,” she answered unhappily.
“I’ll be fine. Now tell me what happened. We've been going crazy looking for you, especially Vick.”
The guilty expression on her face deepened as I said his name, “You don’t just have a concussion, you’ve got a huge gash, and it’s extremely swollen around it. They hit you really fucking hard, Claire.” There was a slight catch in her voice she quickly cleared.
“Mila, tell me what happened,” I insisted.
“I’ll help you clean this up, but we can’t get caught. The locks down here are shit, so they’re easy to pick, but if they notice I can open them, they’ll tighten security, and I still haven’t found a way out of here yet.”
I needed many answers and was hurt, so it wasn't worth arguing with her over how she wanted to go on about our predicament. “Tell me what happened while you do it, I'm sure it's going to hurt like a bitch, and I'll need something to distract me.”
She laughed slightly, but the sound was forced. I looked at her, trying to see past the slight haze. There was a look of dread in her expression that had my heart racing. “You didn't. Oh god, is this a setup? Are you in on it?”
She threw out her hands, stopping me from trying to get up. Her slender fingers dug into my shoulders. “Calm down, Claire. It’s not like that.”
“Then why are you holding me down?”
She rolled her eyes, “I'll tell you, but please don't stand up. I'm afraid you'll fall, and the last thing you need is to hit your head again.” I stopped struggling. I didn’t have the strength even if I wanted to. “I'm going to find some water and rags. Stay there.”
I thought I nodded, but I couldn’t be sure, “My eyes hurt.” My lids dropped shut, unable to hold their own weight any longer. The darkness brought an instant sense of relief. Talking exhausted me, and all I wanted was to sleep more. I didn’t care all that much about what happened to Mila anyway.
My eyes flew open as pain assaulted my head. My hands shot out defensively. “What the fuck!”
“Calm down, Claire,” Mila slapped her hand over my mouth, “Be quiet. I thought this would be easier if you were unconscious.” She looked at me meaningfully, and I realized she wanted me to agree. I nodded, and she moved her hand from my mouth.
“I need to clean this up a little bit. You really need stitches, but let’s try to keep it from getting infected for right now. Vodka isn’t the best disinfectant, but I found it rolling around down here,” her lips pinched in concentration as she dabbed something painful against my scalp.
“Tell me what happened, Mila. We were looking for you when they took me,” I bit the words out, and I was glad the pain gave me an excuse for how bitter they sounded.
“You look like you're going to pass out again any moment. Let's wait until you're feeling better.” The tightness in her lips and her evasiveness did nothing to reassure me. Neither did her rather painful ministrations.
“I’m awake. Out with it.” I barked.
“Fine,” she sighed heavily. “It’s just…” I forced an eye open to watch her struggle with her words. “I was leaving, okay? I was running out on you guys when they took me.” My mouth dropped open. Mason wasn’t entirely wrong.
“That's why you left the picture of your baby and how the house got trashed,” I let my heavy lids remain closed. I barely had it in me to keep talking to her.
“Claire, stay awake. Your brain is going to melt into a puddle of goo.” Her soft hand patted my cheek.
“That’s a myth.”
“I don’t think so. Wake up.” She patted me harder, irritating me now.