I hummed a tune. An annoying one.
All on purpose.
What else was I going to do? Sarcasm was my nature. Bating the beast my fun. There was no stopping who I was, and that alone was bound to get me killed sooner rather than the never I dreamed of.
We’d been at the same motel for three days. The only time I’d gotten fresh air was when Six opened the door in his comings and goings, leaving me chained to the bed of this shithole.
And it really was a shithole. The longer I was there, the more I saw. Good thing I wasn’t a germaphobe, because I didn’t want to overthink what could be lurking in the bed I was lying on.
Over the prior seventy-two hours, I’d become fully immersed in my new reality. Accepting my situation and all. The fact that I was going to die much sooner than later only spurred
