I was sitting on the bed staring at my hands when he’d returned. I stood up and held my hands out to him, ready for the heavy manacles to go around my wrist. When the familiar cool metal didn’t come, I looked up at him, confused.
“You’re staying in your room today,” he explained quickly. He still refused to meet my eyes and I frowned. He stepped aside as the door opened once more.
I felt a large pit in my stomach as Liam came through the door, with the other nurse, Patrick. Patrick unlocked Liam’s handcuffs and smirked at the two of us. “You two have fun now,” he said, amusement coloring his voice. He grabbed Tommy’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Yeah. Right,” Tommy said, his voice low. He looked up, and our eyes met for the first time. I leaned back, away from him. There was something there that hadn’t been before. Before, there had been nothing in Tommy’s eyes. This was his job. Now there was emotion there, and I couldn’t even place a name to it. I turned away, not wanting to see this, and didn’t look up until the door had slammed shut behind them.
“Zoey.”
I looked at Liam, my heart pounding in my chest, aware of the silence in the room, aware of he large bed that stood just feet away from the two of us. My eyes flew up to the camera up above us and I flinched, almost imperceptibly. “I suppose it’s time then,” I said, surprised at the way my voice stayed even and strong.
He came over to me and took me in his arms, hugging me tightly. “Zoey, I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”
I felt the tears streaming down my cheeks, seeping into the soft fabric of Liam’s shirt as I pressed my face into his chest. My arms raised and wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to me. “I don’t want to…I don’t…” I choked out the words.
His body stiffened up, and I knew that I had hurt his feelings again. This caused another fresh wave of tears to well up and spill out over my cheeks. “Oh, Liam, I’m sorry…”
Liam pulled back and raised my chin so that I was looking at him. He looked fierce and firm. “No, you have nothing to be sorry for. You never have to apologize to me.”
I pulled away from him and perched on the bed, cradling my head in my hands. “I’m a virgin, Liam,” I said bluntly.
The bed dipped as he sat down next to me. “I had a feeling.” I looked up at him quickly, and there was a faint hint of a smile on his features. “It’s not an insult, Zoey, calm down. But you really seemed against this, more so than I would expect for someone who wants to survive so badly.”
I blushed and turned away from him. He reached out for me again, pulling me into his lap, and I sighed, leaning my head against his chest. I felt so tired, and the warmth of him against me felt so good and so comfortable. I felt my eyes flutter, my eyelashes scratching against the cotton of his shirt. “Thank you.”
Liam nodded and pulled me in tighter. We stayed like that for a while, so long that I lost track of time and fell asleep.
I dreamt for the first time in ages. There was something about this place that kept me from entering the world of dreams. There was a part of me that had been relieved, knowing that I could lay my head down on my pillow and not enter into scary worlds. There was no one here to hold me and rock me to sleep after I woke up screaming, so I was grateful for the absence of nightmares.
But I missed real dreams, dreams of worlds outside this compound. I missed dreaming about happier times. The dream that I had while wrapped in the arms of Liam was a good dream. It was almost like it was on fast-forward, and I wanted to reach out and grab it, stop it before it could leave me.
Madison and I were on the subway, on the way to Coney Island, which was a tradition of ours. She was addicted to cotton candy and liked to eat as much as she could before running to the roller coaster and riding as many times as she could. She always made me sick just thinking about it, but it was something she just loved to do. We were squished together at the end of the car, bent over something that I couldn’t’ see. I was smirking while Madison laughed out loud, her hand covering her open mouth. She looked beautiful, her skin a creamy white, her dark almond shaped eyes wide.
The image shifted, and I was at the baseball park, four rows behind the Mets’ dugout. I had a hot dog in one hand and a soda in the other, and I was cheering loudly as a homerun went sailing out of the park. Soda sloshed down my arm as I jumped up and down, and I heard the familiar boom of laughter next to me. I turned and saw my dad, a Mets cap on his head. He high fived me and whistled loudly as the stadium exploded in cheers.