Manhunt

Chapter 38

Julia moved to the bed and sat down, scanning the room carefully to take in every detail. Her back hit the bed, and she looked up at the ceiling as she laid down, thinking about everything that had happened. She had activated two more transmitters, which seemed to still be working, and she hoped that her father was still carrying around the device to track the coordinates.

She wondered about her friends. They would never forgive her for what she did, and they were probably on edge with agents following their every single move.

Sighing, she grabbed a pillow to drown out her frustrated screams.

She refused to regret her decisions, no matter how much pain it caused her.

Her mother and father already had plans to capture Samil—she sure was sure of it. When it came to her father's personality, he'd prepare for the worst, and with her parents history involving Mortifer, they'd have everything set up. The only missing component was where, exactly, Samil was hiding.

Which was why she'd gone to Matthew in the first place.

Julia pulled the pillow off her face and slowly exhaled, glancing at her arm. If she made it through this, she knew she would never forget what Samil did to her. She wouldn't forgive herself for allowing it or provoking him enough to pull out the knife. Her mother and father weren't going to forgive Samil for causing her pain, they weren't going to forgive their daughter for being stupid enough to make herself bait for Matthew, and they weren't going to forgive themselves for allowing it all to happen.

It was evident that she'd caused a lot more trouble than she'd hoped.

Her thoughts then drifted to a single boy, his clear gold eyes watching her with varying swirls of emotions. She had missed Zane, but now she wasn't sure how to feel anymore.

Not only had he betrayed her, but he'd left her to fend for herself—all while breaking her heart. As much as she hated to admit it, perhaps Samil had been right. Perhaps Zane had never actually liked her, and cared about his mission too much to risk his life for her. She'd been foolish to think that two spies from a different agency could actually live a life together.

She felt the tears run down her cheeks, stinging the scratch she'd received from Samil when he'd slapped her with the back of his hand. She was pathetic for crying over a boy who probably made the right decision for himself. He may have betrayed her, but she couldn't deny even the smallest number of feelings she'd developed for the kid.

He was the first guy that she'd ever truly liked in a romantic way, and it hurt.

The tears dried up soon enough, and she got up to pace around the room, her stomach roaring impatiently. From how greasy her hair suddenly felt, after she ate, she would need to take a shower and hopefully gain a few hours of sleep. Even though she didn't want to leave her guard down by sleeping in enemy quarters, it'd be better than to be weak from sleep deprivation.

After about ten minutes of walking in the limited space, she picked a corner of the bed, one that was furthest away from the door, and pulled her knife out. Crouching down to her knees, she tightened her grip on the knife and started to carve into the back of one of the bed posts. At first, they were mindless etchings and lines, but then she started to write her name in small print. Once she'd done so, she drew a long line under her name and below that, a single tally mark that displayed how long she'd stayed here. So far, it was one day. Since it was 2 am already, she was beginning day two of living in Hell.

Julia put her knife away, slipping it carefully into her boot.

Waiting another ten minutes for Matthew to come, she actually started to work out. If she were to be imprisoned here, she might as well try to keep in shape.