Free - Jonah Marais

Chapter 8

Jonah

As soon as she hit her head on the frame of the bed, my heart sunk. I never actually meant for her to get hurt by that, I just failed to take in to account the lack of distance between us and the bed. Before I could even take the chance to apologise, something snapped and burned inside me as I remembered why I was down here.

I never meant to hurt her, but she was right when she yelled at me. My chest was heaving at the time, but the look in her eyes... it was so cold and bitter. A running theme within our 'conversations'. I know I said some things that I shouldn't have, but I was hurting. No. I shouldn't be making excuses because that's all it is. Excuses. I'm just too scared of the truth.

Waiting outside the door for a while, I heard her call out, my heart sinking even more as I realised how right she truly was. Hearing her start crying on the other side of the door hurt a lot. I couldn't go soft on her, no matter how much I knew that the tears being shed were my fault. Jordan was the reason we were even in this situation in the first place. I mean, correct; none of this would have happened if we didn't kidnap her, but we only did that because they were planning an attack on us. So, technically this is all Tyson's fault.

I decided to send Becca in with some food, a drink and some clean clothes. Making sure that Becca didn't have any more glass or porcelain to give to Jordan, I handed her a note to go with the clothes.

Standing at the top of the stairs, I waited for someone to say something, noticing Becca backing out of the room, everything still in her hands. Before Becca fully backed out of the room, I heard Jordan ask her about my attitude. All I wanted to do was stand up for myself and tell her why I was the way I was, but that would require going soft on her. Becca, remaining loyal, refused to give Jordan the answer she was looking for, before running back upstairs.

"Mr Marais? Why are you the way you are to her? I... I know you like her..." Her words clearly hesitant as she spoke. Looking a Becca, I was ready to fire up, but I knew not to around her.

"I don't like her Becca. Besides, she's our 'prisoner'." The word escaping my lip exasperatedly, burnt to my core. I hated using the word 'prisoner', but that was what she had referred to herself as. "To go with it, Becca, she hurt Zach. I'm treating her in the best way I can. Everything I've gotten you to give to her, that's the best I can do." My words left my mouth with a breath, that seemed to release, instantly, along with a heap of weight. I couldn't treat Jordan like a prisoner, but I also couldn't treat her like she wasn't one.

I felt bad for lying to Becca. She didn't deserve it. Becca is one of the sweetest people I know, and here I am lying to her about something she is adamant on. I... I can't like Jordan. Can I? No! Jordan is Tyson Whittle's daughter. She's the second highest ranking Black Python, she's a total ignorant bitch and, most importantly, she's our prisoner. As much as I hate the word, it's the truth.

Who am I kidding? I'm only lying to myself because I'm scared of the truth. I'm scared of the fact that someone I hated, only yesterday, won't leave my fucking head. Last night, when I was lying in bed, her fucking face kept hovering around in my head. Every fucking time I close my eyes, it's her I see.

If I'm completely honest, I walked out without finishing the argument because I wanted to kiss her. It sounds stupid, and I don't know why I feel that way, I just do.

***

Jordan

Days. That's how long I've been down here in the same clothes. I wasn't certain on how many but, I was guessing around five. I was running on one bottle of water a day and one ham sandwich a day. There was no cheese or other extras, just ham and bread.

I had been feeling hungry each day, but out of defiance, I was stupid enough to refuse eating one or two of the sandwiches. The more I think about my stupidity, the more I regret it. I had to do something to get my mind off the dazed feeling running through my head. The only thing that could replace it was his fucking face. His stupid fucking face. Ever since our argument, he hadn't even had the fucking balls to come down and face me. Pathetic.

Bored out of my mind, I moved to get up and make my way over to the door to try and get someone's attention, but as I stood up, I sat back down immediately, the room starting to spin uncontrollably. After an extensive moment, the room finally started to stabilise, right before the door swung open.

"You better not plan on attacking me again." The words leaving his mouth, followed closely by a gentle smile. God! Even after I fucking stabbed him, he was kind to me. Way to make me feel even more shitty about my actions.

"Don't worry. I learnt my lesson the first time. I... I'm sorry by the way." My words leaving my lips, in a small voice, as I attempted my best smile.

"Well... thank you for helping me." He smiled again, laying a clean change of clothes out on the edge of the, as well as an extra bottle of water. I quickly reached for the bottle, not caring too much about the clothes, before sculling the entirety of the contents. "Calm down!" He let out a slight laugh as he looked at me in shock.

"Sorry. I'm thirsty." My words remaining small as I screwed the cap back on the water bottle. Shaking his head, Zach rested down the plate that he had been holding, a full sandwich, butter, salad and all, on the end of the bed. Turning around, Zach walked out, locking the door behind him.

Standing up, after waiting for the door to lock, I watched as the room started spinning again, this time much faster than the last. Forcing myself to push through, at least until I was changed, the room spun faster and faster. Watching the room become a blur, I felt the cold, hard thump of my body hitting the ground before the room stop spinning and went completely black.