Ch. 10 - Trapped

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The nurse comes in again with a change of clothes and supplies to re-bandage my arms and hand.

"What happened to my jewelry?" I ask.

In the few hours I've been left in solitude, I have been able to ponder what happened when I was below the ice. Could it be I was hallucinating? Probably. I was without oxygen for a long time. Yet, a part of me knows that can't be all. I was going to drown, and somehow, my mother saved me with the ring she had given me all those years ago. If I had not reached out at just the right second, I am very positive I would be floating lifelessly wherever the river flowed next.

As she begins to re-dress my wounds, she responds, "Your mate has them. You're lucky we didn't have to cut that ring off, with your hand being so swollen. Your watch broke, but I'm sure that can be fixed."

I sigh in relief as she finishes up and moves to help me get changed.

"Why am I getting changed? Am I going somewhere?"

She struggles to get my shirt over my head. "Yes, you're going home with Beta Lucas. He will be back shortly,"

I sharply inhale. My arms are seriously fucked up. She looks at me with pity and continues to help me slide on a pair of jeans before moving to shoes.

I stop her. "I can do this bit. Thanks."

She nods. "If you need anything, press the call light." With that, she leaves the room.

It pains me a little to think that I would have been a nurse too if they had not taken over. As I sit with my feet dangling off the hospital bed, I look at all the medical equipment throughout the room. I remembered what most of them are called except one or two.

I hear the door crack open, but I continue to stare at one of the devices, even though I've lost my train of thought. I won't acknowledge him until I have to. Our last few encounters had not ended well, and this time, I'll be going home with him, wherever his home is. My home would always be with my grandfather.

I can feel his body close behind me as his warmth radiates into mine.

"Josephine," he says, trying to get my attention.

Emotionless, I look at him. I hate being called that. I forced everyone to call me Jo at the age of 2. My parents only called me that when I did something that warranted being scolded. During my high school years, it seemed all my mother would call me was Josephine. I was quite a nuisance. I should've been better to her.

I don't correct him by telling him to call me Jo. He doesn't get to have that. I continue ignoring him for a second longer and then quietly whisper, "Yes."

He walks around to make me face him and gets down on his knees, placing himself in front of me and grabbing my hand.

"I'm going to bring you home now," he says.

My eyes light up with hope as I reply, "Back to Grandfather?"

He purses his lips together and shakes his head.

Of course not.

"He will be taken care of for the rest of his life, but I'm your home now," he says as he rubs his thumb softly over my hand. All of a sudden, his grip hardens as he reaches with another hand into his pocket. "I know this will be hard for you, but as you've shown me that you're a runner, I'm going to have you wear this."

He pulls out a tracking bracelet I've seen used on prisoners, and I try to fidget away. I can't. It hurts too much due to the injuries I sustained earlier. He clasps it shut around my wrist. As it closes, I hear an electric beep to signal that it's functioning.

I immediately recoil from him and rub where he had pressed too hard. My eyes water, and I internally reprimand myself and close my eyes tightly until the momentary feeling passes.

"Let's get going," he says, as he presses the call light. The nurse comes in with a wheelchair. He picks me up, placing me into the chair, before the nurse starts pushing me through the hospital to his car. I don't remember much of the journey. Him and the nurse make small talk that I successfully tune out.

It isn't until I can see the valet bring his car around through the window in the lobby that I begin to truly panic. I'm shaking as he takes over for the nurse and wheels me outside.

"Thanks," he says as he begins to pick me up and put me in his car. I start to resist being put in my seat, but he just puts his forehead to mine. "Just breathe, it's okay."

My lip quivers. "I don't want to go with you."

He looks back at me with hurt and pity in his eyes before he locks the door and closes it. I try to open it, but it's locked. I get so frustrated that I hit the window with my tracking bracelet and crack the glass.

I look at my surroundings as he gets into the driver's seat and sighs. It's still snowy outside. As we start to drive away, I lean my head against the cold window. It finally dawns on me that, despite all my efforts, I'm trapped.

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