Etta

Chapter Thirteen

She didn't stop to look at the slaves as she burst through her bedroom door. She grabbed some clothes and stuffed them into her rucksack. The Draytons didn't expect her to find Matilda in a day did they? 

When she was ready, as ready as she could be given the circumstances, she made her way to the atrium. Her heart didn't feel like it was beating, it felt like it was trying to bury its way out of her chest. She wanted to throw up and jump all at the same time. It couldn't be happening. She couldn't be stepping outside for the first time since...

She looked down at her arm and swallowed. The piece of material was ragged and gross but she didn't take it off. The skin beneath it burned. Searing hot that made her eyes water. One hand grappled with the knot but it wouldn't undo. Her heart didn't steady. Everything worked against her. The string of her bow was tight against her chest, stopping her from breathing. At all. No, no, she had to be breathing. She couldn't be walking if she wasn't breathing. 

The atrium erupted around her, shaking beneath her feet. She was doing it, she was really doing it. The door to the Draytons office was wide open and she could see them sat around the table. Watching her. Watching as her body shook, her brain failed. She turned away from them, her hand slamming into the glass window with a mighty bang. Someone turned off the air. It got stuck. It was sharp against her teeth but snagged in her throat. Not reaching her lungs. 

A loud gasping noise reached her ears. A horrible, retching wheeze like someone was murdering a pig. She was so busy trying to flood air into her lungs she didn't realise it was coming from her. 

She crumpled to the floor, her sword crashing against the stone floor and cutting her shin. 

And as soon as it'd started it was over. She was nothing but a shivering, crying mass on the floor. The loose parts of her hair stuck to her forehead and she glared up at Margaux and Drax who hadn't moved from their seats. She rose shakily to her feet, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, not taking her eyes off them the entire time. 

Margaux raised her chin and muttered something to her brother, who stood. 

'What was that?' he said, his words clipped. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her have a moment, she knew that. Hatred pulsed through her, he knew exactly what it was and he still asked. It was humiliating to admit it out loud.

'I'm fine,' she replied. 'Thanks for your concern.' 

The palm of his hand slammed into her jaw. It hurt and stopped the room from spinning. Kind of like it'd snapped her out of it. She knew that wasn't his intention, he'd smacked her for the way she'd talked to him, but she felt normal again. She tried not to smile. He grabbed the collar of her jacket and squeezed it tight against her neck.

'Here's what is happening, lanista. You are being sent out to find the girl you lost.' He shook her. 'When you find her, you will return her to us. Then, and only then, we will discuss you finding alternative accommodation. If you do not return, we will find you and drag you back here.' His face got so close she could smell the porridge on his breath. 'And the last time that happened will seem like a warm hug in comparison.' He let go but didn't back away. 'Do you understand?'

'Yes, sir.' The same prickle of fury she was so used to slithered down her back. But she didn't care. She was getting out of there. 

'Daryl!' Margaux called through the room and Daryl stepped out of the side office, rustling papers in his hand. 'Are you ready?'

Etta crinkled her brow, glaring at Daryl who looked was dressed similar to herself. Like he was going on a trek. Etta's mouth gaped a little as she passed a disbelieving glare between the Draytons and the lanista.