Hollow Graves 2 ~ No Redemption (Lesbian story)

Chapter Fifteen

Tris

Pain continued all day. There was nothing more brutal than a slow agonizing day, knowing she wasn't with the people she loved. Every thought stretched like the time Tris was forced into an intervention with her parents and pastor, for being gay. That memory was a dark time in her life. Being challenged and judged for who she was and what she needed was not something anyone should live through. Emotional pain always seemed worse than physical. It was a frightening thought, not knowing if her family was safe.

Tris eyes burned. She depicted where they could be now. If there was more of these assholes who was chasing after her family. Rather she known Jeff and Jacob a day or not, the moment she invited them into their group, they'd joined the family. Her eyes tried to study the woman and man as they slept. There was nothing to gain by sitting around.

Sliding her body to the window, Tris preferred to escape at the closest exit. It hurt to move. Weakness was a insult to her stoic heart. A mixture of defiance and hope forced her muscles to become useful. She made herself appear small, staying low at the carpet. The only thing Tris could see was Madison and Felicia at the other end of that window. Her brother was probably pissed, wanting to come back. Tris hoped he didn't.

A foot from the window, Tris snaked her body, back against the wall. She reached shakily, to open the window when a knife stabbed through her upper arm, right between her shoulder blade and armpit. "Son of a bitch." Tris bent low and yanked the knife out, in a snarl. Her eyes blurred with painful tears. Not tears of sadness but of pain and exhaustion. She was over this shit.

"Nice aim, Jeana," Valentin cheered. He gave his sister a thumbs up, shaking his head down at Tris in disapproval. "That was dumb as fuck."

Biting back curse words, Tris sneered. "You have to give me credit for trying." Tris blew out a shaky breath. She no longer felt heat in her body as if she was a hot bowl of soup sitting too long to be eaten. Her stomach growled and Tris licked her dried lips. Her eyes were droopy. Skin was rough. Tris took in another inhale and nearly gagged on the scent of rot. She shut her eyes, trying to compose her reaction to the smell.

"Oh, that's you." Jeana pointed to Tris, emphasizing who she meant.

Tris couldn't believe that. She was still alive. This woman was trying to make Tris doubt her own identity and future. A game in getting what they wanted.

"What happens when you don't eat raw flesh?" Jeana asked. There was little sympathy. The woman lived off making others see her way.

"I never ate human flesh, if that's what you are referring to." Tris words were heavy to her lips, trying to fight through the pain.

"That's nice." Valentin was mocking Tris control over what she ate.

Sitting up against the wall, Tris held the knife in her hand. Her eyes glared up at Jeana and Valentin with a dark look that told them she would kill them, given the opportunity. "My eyes...change," she finally snarled out, trying to keep them distracted from the idea of her still holding the knife. She'd eventually make it seem like the knife was non existent to them.

"And?" Jean asked, not swayed by Tris death glare or her holding the knife. Tris could barely sit up straight.

Tris considered. She stared off to a random direction, thinking back to any other changes she noticed. "I guess...I become...more, out of control," she decided to say. She knew looking off would distract them to do the same. A tactic she used on her patients during uncomfortable moments.

"You mean. Less human," Jeana corrected. She said it more as a statement than a question.

Choosing not to answer, Tris kept her eyes from the woman or her dumb brother.