Marked

Chapter Thirty-Three

Sweat clung to the back of Rachel's neck.

Her fingernails tapped against the cool, marble floors, each tick tick tick threatening to send her over the edge. Compulsively, she checked again to make sure the mute button was on. The red letters stared back at her like they had the past hundred times, eliciting a sigh from her lips.

She made sure that the watch was out of range of the camera and relaxed when she realized it was still well hidden behind her thigh.

On the other end of the watch, Abby went through a maintenance checklist with one of her guards. 

It was nothing fancy, boring even.

Juan thumped his head against the wall rhythmically, his eyes focused on the ceiling above.

"This is so boring." He groaned.

"I know. But she's going to say something incriminating, I know it."

He sighed, letting his face tip down so he could look at her. "Well is there any way to speed this up 'cause I'm bored shitless? Which reminds me, I gotta take a piss. How am I supposed to take a piss in here?"

Her eyes scanned the room. No toilet. She had been needing to go for the past hour too and her bladder was beginning to protest with pain. Reluctantly, Rachel set the watch down, her insides twisting at the idea of missing something important while she took a break.

She tapped on the glass of their holding cell and waited a while. There was a button on the wall that allowed her to be heard on the other side.

"Hello? I need you to let us out. We've gotta use the bathroom."

To his credit, the guard arrived quickly. "Him first," He said to Rachel. 

Within a few minutes, he'd returned. Rachel slid the watch over to him behind her back. 

She stood and allowed the guard to bind her wrists. They reached the bathroom at the end of the hall and he paused to unbind her hands once more.

"Don't try anything stupid." He warned.

Rachel rolled her eyes. 

What stupid stunt could she really pull in a bathroom? Did he think she'd render him unconscious with a roll of toilet paper perhaps?

She stepped into the bathroom and took care of her human necessities. Once she was done, she washed her hands and took a long look at herself in the tiny, rectangular mirror. There was a small scar on her eyebrow from when she'd fought Charles, her eyes had more lines at the corners and her red hair looked like disgruntled flames.

Rachel shut her eyes. Hector's voice sounded in her ears, deep, yet gentle, always so comforting. 

I've always loved the color of your hair. Reminds me of fire.

The tears she had thought would never come erupted from her eyes in a rush, leaving tracks down the sides of her cheeks, and her body gasping for air. She gripped the sides of the sink to steady herself, unable to calm the onslaught of sobs.

She hadn't cried that hard since Jed had run away and now that she had begun, she didn't seem to be able to stop. 

How could she when every man she had every cared about had disappeared?

As a toddler, the father she only remembered as the shadow in the office, the one who would be gone for months at a time, had left her to be marked. The brother she had loved more than her own life, had also left to pursue a dream that had surely gotten him killed. And now Hector, but at least he had been selfless in his actions.