Conflate | Bellamy Blake ¹ ✓

✯ | chapter twenty-three

❝that's the thing about pain: it demands to be felt.❞

-augustus waters, the fault in our stars

♛

CAGE REALLY IS GOING all-out for my ransom video. He wants it to be perfect, and since he only has one shot, he's trying as hard as he can to make it work. It's like he's a damn movie star or something- like one of those actors in films they had in the past.

The president holds a camera firmly out in front of him. The small device is the perfect size to fit in his hand, minus the screen flipped around so he can see what he's filming. It isn't recording yet, but once it starts, it'll be broadcasted to the device in Jasper's possession and Bellamy's earbud. They've apparently taken the latter offline momentarily to prevent any messages from coming through. But since Cage wants this to be as dramatic as possible, he's letting the one message reach him.

When the "record" button is pressed, a little red dot in the corner of the screen informs us it's working. At this very second, Jasper's tablet should blink on and so should Bell's earbud.

"This message is for the forty-four and the stowaway currently residing in my mountain," Cage begins calmly. "I want to tell you something about me. You know, I've always been fascinated with rivers. And not those ones I see in paintings; I like the real ones. It's been my lifelong dream to let the current carry me wherever it pleases. But rivers can be very reckless, you know- very unpredictable. And know, I have one right here."

He yanks me into view of the camera, where I knock into him and shoot him a glare. Looking into the glass lens is like looking into the saddened eyes of Jasper himself. The glass glistens like it's filling with tears.

"I have Fallon Rivers in my possession." Cage's voice is a dangerous sneer now, a clear threat. It's the embodiment of the thorns of a rose. "Either give yourselves up, or she goes- it's your choice. Take however long you need." A sick smile spreads his lips wide. "I have all the time in the world."

I subtly shake my head just before the recording icon is replaced by a green box. It's all I can do to hope Jasper noticed it. If not...

"Take her to Dr. Haven," the president commands as he pushes me roughly toward Emerson. "Just because I didn't give them a time limit doesn't mean we can't put her to some use."

Emerson's dry hand grabs my wrist and forces me to walk alongside him. He's much taller than I am, with a thin frame and receding hairline that causes him to appear older than he probably is. Even so, he's strong. The effort he puts forth to make me move is minimal.

"Whatever you're planning on doing isn't going to be any less painful than what I've already been through," I hiss as he drags me along down the hallway with him.

Emerson merely quirks his lip up in a knowing smirk. "We'll see about that."

The trip to our destination doesn't last much longer than three minutes considering it's on the same floor. Emerson uses his key card to access an unmarked door, hauling me inside after him. It buzzes behind him as the lock clicks firmly in place.

My stomach drops. "No."

I know what I'm here for immediately. The familiar room is all-white, with a flimsy cot shoved up against the wall near the vent. A middle-aged Asian man looks up from his desk upon our arrival. He adjusts the wire-rimmed glasses on his face and stands.