The Fire In Me (Ryder) (COMPLETED) 1 ✔️

Chapter Seventy-Five Started Off Great, Ended Badly

Something Big- Shawn Mendes

     I slightly move my legs feeling the cold floor with my bare feet. They took my shoes. Why did they take my shoes? Cause you could have hidden a phone or something. Smart. I shake my head. Gosh, I hate when people see my feet. Feet are just so weird, I don't understand them. Why can't they be cute? Just why? Toes. Bleh. Some toes are so long it's gross.  I shiver in disgust as chains rattle and I freeze. Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Not only did they take my shoes, they took my pants too. What the fuck can I hide in my pants? A lot, actually, I should be thankful they didn't take my underwear too.

     You could hide a lot of stuff in your pants and underwear. Okay, but, also why do they have to know that? Why the hell can't I just live in peace? I can't go a few days without getting kidnapped or hurt. I cry in anger and start to pull on the chains when a thought comes into my head. Dallas. He was shot. He was weak. He was so pale. Why did he have to save me? Maybe I wanted to get shot. Why couldn't he have just let the bullet hit me? What happened to him? Is Dallas okay? Did Rocco get him to a hospital? Is he alive? I- is he dead? I shake my head again. Stop thinking like this. You have to focus.

     Right. First, I have to open my eyes. Do I want to open my eyes? Maybe I can just listen for anything. A guard or something could be in here. Deep breathing comes from in front of me, making my whole body tense. Someone is in here with me. That someone is asleep, so they can't be a guard. Unless this is a shitty jail. Am I in a room with another prisoner? Why would David put me in a room with another prisoner? Does he not care about me that much? Ryder, he knocked you out, he took off your shoes, socks, and pants, and he left you on the cold floor with your wrists chained. No, he doesn't care about you.

     "You could have said it nicely," I mumble to myself before opening my eyes and looking around. I am in a dark room with one barred window that is high up. A metal door to my left looked thick and locked, and the walls were rusted metal with smears of dried blood everywhere. Couldn't he care about me just a little bit? Enough to not put me in this room? I shake my head and stop moving when the deep breathing becomes shallow. I slowly turn my head to look in front of me, and spot a man with his head down, both his wrists chained.

     His hair was brown, long, greasy, and messed up, sticking up everywhere. His clothes look ripped and dirty, and I lean forward to see a part of his face. His face was growing a beard to indicate that he's been here a while. A long while. At least I know he won't torture me. He's a prisoner too. Prisoner. I roll my eyes. I now hate that word. I hate the word captive now too. Let's just say that I now hate every word that is a synonym for a prisoner. What did I do to David? Why did he shoot Dallas? Why did he want to shoot me? What did I do to him? The man in front of me lifts his head, and I freeze as soon as I see his face. Oh, God.

     "Ryder, you're awake." He says and chuckles at the look on my face. "Remember me? Or has it been too long?"

     "Dexter," I say in shock. "You're still alive... have you been here all this time? Why are they keeping you prisoner?"

     "Either I'm alive, or this is a nightmare." He mutters. "Yes, I've been here all this time because I saw a murder they committed." He says, answering all of my questions. He saw a murder they committed? "Your brother." My brother. How could the fact that one of them killed my brother slip my mind? It didn't slip your mind. You forgot. Dallas distracted me. I forgot. Don't blame Dallas for this. I shake my head and look at Dexter again.

     "I'm sorry." I say.

     "For What? Leaving me here or doing nothing when you saw that they had been torturing me? Or pretending like we didn't know each other?"