Looking over my head, he nodded at the shower. “Clean yourself up. Just be careful not to faint and drown. It's been fun so far, I'd rather not end the night disposing of a body.”
Baffled, I dropped my jaw. “What? But, aren't you driving me back to the brothel?”
“You might have missed the part where they were shooting at us.” Wrinkling his forehead, Ronin smiled. “I'm betting they probably won't be all that happy to see me again anytime soon.” Turning in the doorway, he twisted just enough to watch me. “So, no. A return trip isn't in the cards.”
With my insides knotting fiercely, I started to stand. “Then why did you ask me if I'd do anything... anything... to get back there?” Why be so cruel? I was swept up in the madness and unfairness of my situation. My sanity was disintegrating like burning tissues.
The light of the room highlighted Ronin from behind; the hallway was dark, welcoming him into its shadows like an old friend. He didn't look back as he spoke, but I thought, if he had, I would have seen the hardness in his face.
“I had to gauge how much of a lying junkie you actually were, to see if I needed to lock you in.” His knuckles squeezed, bloodless. “Now I know. Thanks.”
And then he was gone.
Jumping up, I slammed into the door, jiggled the handle in wild frustration. I was still weak, but my disbelief—my genuine anger—was making me flare with energy. He really did it! He locked me in!
Ronin hadn't believed my story... and he'd locked me in.
Gritting my teeth, I pounded with my fists. “Let me out! Hey! Let me OUT! I'm not lying to you!” All the fury that had been building, all the cold guilt at my own defeat, came pouring out in one go. I screamed, vocal chords shredding by the end. “Let me out, let me fucking out! I need to save my sister!”
I'm all she has, I...
My hands were numb, the skin red and peeling. I couldn't hold myself up, my legs shaking me down to the floor. As my cheek pressed to the wood, I bared my teeth in a soft, desolate sob. This couldn't be happening. Of all the things I'd run into, a damn door would defeat me?
Kneeling, I turned around, hugging myself until my teeth stopped clicking. My insides still trembled, fingers clenching and popping when I opened them. The hot tears came, summoned in spite of my exhaustion.
For Claudine, I would always have tears.
I need to calm down. My heart was ratcheting around, throwing itself heavily into my ribs. I need to take a breath, breathe... just breathe...
Sniffling, I scrubbed at my eyes. Crying wasn't going to help me. I was too hot suddenly, wishing I could just roll into some fresh snow. How had it gotten so warm in here?
I slumped deeper, unzipping my coat as I went. Sweat coated me, old and new. Some was from my trauma, the rest from my exertion. Doing anything felt like a struggle, and I longed to return to my former self; the me that had never met a needle.
With the coat gone, I looked down on the pale flesh of my bare arms. I hadn't seen them since the start, but now, the swollen red pricks caught my eye. Flinching, I ran a fingertip over them, horror sinking in.
I'd known that I'd been drugged, but the physical proof... the scarring... it painted a new reality.
She'll need to sweat it out.
Ronin's words echoed in me. I knew what heroin marks looked like. Claudine had worn such obvious scars, but she'd hidden hers better with time, shooting between her toes to keep the evidence secret.
Swelling with sorrow, I brushed my wrist, watched my veins flex. This sensation... the good parts, and now, this awful weakness... is this what you go through all the time, Claudine? The visual was too much. I was sticky, and gross, and the need for sleep was weighing on me by the second.
Using the door, I got to my feet. The shower Ronin had pointed to called to me. Eagerly, I filled the bathroom with steam, stripping down in preparation for the scalding water.
In the bright lights of the mirror, I saw myself—and I stopped. The undersides of my eyes were shiny, too purple. My hair was a mess, a few spots clumping together. Turning, I touched gingerly at a wide bruise on my outer thigh. When I did, a fuzzy memory of someone kicking me floated into my mind.
How long was I mixed up with my kidnappers?
Though, to be fair, it wasn't like I was free now. Ronin acted like my savior, but he'd still locked me up in a room and stolen my rights away.
He thinks I'm a liar. That was a sobering thought. It cooled my mood, helped ground me to the present. If Ronin thought I actually wanted to get back to the brothel because it'd get me more drugs, fine. He could think what he wanted. Nothing he thought about me mattered.
All I had to do was escape. Let him judge me if he wanted.
I'll get out of here, I told myself, slipping under the deliciously hot water. I'll get free and find Claudine.