𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐬𝐨𝐧|𝟑| [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

Chapter 22

ZARA

"If you think they'll buy that, you're wrong."

Grace turns to me, twirling my cell in between her thumb and finger, smiling down at me chained to the wall, Julie on the opposite side, unconscious, chest rising and falling slowly, body still.

You see, Paul the wanker, the guard from Grace's facility that took a liking to Jane, he put the cloth doused in chemicals over my face. But, if he knew what he was doing, he would have known to keep it over my face for at least five minutes for me to be fully knocked out.

So, I played dead, or, played sleepy time. I stayed still when he hauled me over his shoulder and threw me in the car boot, followed by Julie. She didn't need to be chloroformed because the force of the smash hit her head hard enough to put her into a deep slumber.

I felt her heartbeat against my chest, so I knew she was alive. I also felt every bump in the road that winded me, every harsh turn of the car that crashed my head off a metal box, and each time they pressed the breaks I felt my insides mush up. All of this with my unconscious friend lying on top of me.

I didn't get away with the whole not falling asleep thing, as soon as he pulled the cloth away from my face it went numb, my headache got worse as the minutes went on, the twisting in my stomach had me gagging up vomit, and my vision was a little blurry. Trying to keep yourself from hyperventilating in panic isn't easy, but somehow, I managed to do it quietly.

My hearing is fully intact though, and I heard one of the men radio into their head office that there's no sign of the child. And a female voice radioed back that they'll find them once they get confirmation that Theo Dawson and Thomas Edison's bodies have been retrieved.

That hit me hard, to a point I nearly blew my cover and scream out. I covered my mouth, fighting back the whimpers, feeling the tears coating my face. There is absolutely no way that they're dead.

But I needed to keep strong, survive. I have tried to push it all to the back of my head and concentrate on getting out of whatever shit we're in.

I'd believe we were in some sort of hospital if I didn't catch a glimpse of the back of Grace's facility while pretending to be out cold. The room we are in is spotless, a steel table in the middle of the small room, white tiled flooring, bright white lights above us, the walls all shiny metal. The roof has small slit windows, three to be exact, all running the length of the room.

There are welded in chains on each side of the room, linked to cuffed that currently hold my wrists and ankles tightly, Julie across from me, also cuffed, comatose.

Grace put two and two together, the cab full of luggage, my boarding pass tucked away in my purse, seen it as a way to buy them some time to 'deal' with us. So, she took it upon herself to send my dad a message that'll have them thinking I got on that flight.

I was kind of hoping that Jane would notice I wasn't there and call my dad, or even Theo, but Grace saw the missed call from her, and a message came through. She cocked a brow and told me someone is waiting for me, so she sent her a message too.

If she knew my son was with her, everything would've been fucked. Thankfully, her pee-sized brain didn't register it.

"Your dad needs to give it a break," Grace says, thrusting the cell out so I can see my dad calling me. "You'd think after three times he would give up. I mean, he did years ago," she shrugged. "He even had to pretend to be dead to get away from your poisonous family. Especially the youngest, little Cole was a pain in my ass, always crying. I heard what Mac did, shame." She clicks off the screen, locking it. Placing it down on the table, she leans into me with a glare. At this point, I'm fuming. "I thought your mom would have at least warned you what was coming."