--Chapter Forty-Five--

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Kaira's POV

My poor poor stomach. The man had kicked it over and over before he finally got tired of hurting me and left. He didn't even bother to restrain me again, but I think he knew that I would be in too much pain to try.

I try my best to keep absolutely still, and it somewhat helps to ease my pain. But with every rattling breath I take, the pain shoots back through my torso, reminding me it isn't done yet.

I force my eyes shut, hoping to catch some sleep or something to distract me from my current situation. Only, instead my thoughts go to Zane.

I hope he's okay. I haven't heard anything since the man told me he had been reassigned. And I guess that makes sense. I mean, the kiss couldn't have been real, but he probably broke some protocol or something and that's why they reassigned him elsewhere.

However, in the back of my mind, I feel a tinge of worry that told me it was more than that. I want to believe that tiny voice when it says the kiss meant something and that Zane does care for me, but then why hasn't he tried to come back to see me?

I can understand if he wouldn't want to help me escape, but wouldn't he at least come visit me if he cared? And that right there is why I know he doesn't like me. At least, not in the way I want.

I manage to sleep off and on somewhat until I feel slightly better. I can tell my ribs are bruised, but I don't think any of them are cracked or broken, which is a good sign.

Stupidly, I try to move and stand up, but I don't get far. I barely move at all before my stomach hurts so bad I have to lie back and bite my lip to keep from crying.

As I force myself to think of anything else but my pain, my stupid mind keeps bringing up Zane.

And I hate it. I don't want to think about him.

"Stop..." I whimper to myself, willing the images to go away. His smile. His laugh. His...

"Stop!" I scream, rocking my head in my hands tightly.

"What's going on in here?"

My eyes are blurry and I realize I have been crying. A lot.

I blink up at the man, but don't answer. At least the images are gone for the moment.

"I asked you a question!" He repeats, as if raising his voice will make me talk. But I'm not going to. I'm afraid to do anything. Afraid that if I speak, the images will come back and overwhelm me.

Poor Kaira...

Kaira's POV: Ithildae

Not Just An ExperimentOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora