Emerge: The Captive: (Book 3)(5)
“This way. She wants you in the white room.” She shoved a protein bar and a bottle of water into his hands and ushered him down the wide, white marbled hall.
“White room?” He halted. I’m not going back in that room again.
“Muévete. I’m supposed to get you settled before she gets here.” Santi’s voice was firm when it probably should have been desperate. From the looks of it, she’d embraced her position and accepted her life here. It was probably how she’d survived as long as she had.
“What’s going to happen now?” he asked, choking down the protein bar, wishing he had ten more.
“That’s not important.” She turned to face him. “The reality of Michael’s psychological mind games is going to hit you soon. And it’s going to hit you hard. I’m sorry I don’t have time to soften the blow, Quinn. How long do you think you’ve been here?”
“I don’t know. I lost track of time years ago. I guess four years? Maybe five? What do you mean think?”
“You arrived here just three months ago.” She held his gaze, willing him not to fall apart.
“Three months? That’s not possible.” Quinn grabbed the wall for support as his knees threatened to give out.
“Your memories of the last five ‘years’ are never going to leave you. You must find a way to live with it and not let the confusion overwhelm you.”
“How do I get through it?” Quinn struggled to wrap his mind around the time screw. Logically, he knew it was possible for a psychological gift to affect him this way, but the experience of the last five “years” was so vivid. The memories were seared into his mind and he wasn’t sure how to separate fact from that kind of fiction.
“Put it behind you. Pretend like you just got here. Everything from the last time you saw me to this very moment doesn’t matter. It wasn’t real, so suck it up and move on. It’s the only way.”
“It feels real.” Quinn glanced down at his mangled hands. They were real enough.
“You’ve not healed from anything they’ve done to you, Quinn. That’s not because of the magnetic weapons or your age. They’ve not given you time to heal. Think about it. How long has it been since Michael last flogged you?”
“Weeks. Maybe more than a month.”
“Don’t you think you’d have started healing by now? By the looks of it, it’s only been a few hours.”
Quinn nodded, staggering down the hall behind her. Inside he was reeling from the lightning bolt realization that it had only just begun. What felt like years of torture was just his initiation into Soma. That alone was enough to break him—which was exactly what they wanted, but Quinn made a habit of not giving them what they wanted.
“Deep breaths,” Santi said softly, pausing in front of a closed door. “You don’t have time to come to terms with it. Don’t give them the satisfaction. Don’t make it easy for them. You understand how her gift works, right?” She reached for his arm to give him some support.
“She’s like a parasite.” Quinn latched on to the change in subject like a lifeline.
She nodded, fumbling with a ring of keys. Her hands shook, but she managed to get the key into the lock. “She’ll dig even deeper now. She’ll want to understand every nuance of your gift she controls. She owns it. You won’t have full use of your power as long as she’s latched on to you. But you’ll have some. She’ll keep you bogged down under the weight of her gift so you’re almost useless. Her power works like a defense mechanism. If you attack her with one of your gifts, she takes control of it. You know that, but she’s going to sift through your mind to see everything you’re capable of. She’ll discover things about your abilities that even you haven’t discovered yet.”
“She can tell what I can do? Everything?”
“Yes. You’ll not be able to hide anything from her.”
“I’m so screwed.” Quinn followed Santi into the white room on shaky limbs. He stumbled, reaching for the doorway for support. He’d been here before—or at least a place just like it. He’d spent a year here. Tormented by the endless brilliance of white, never-ending daylight and the constant white noise that drowned out his screams. The monotony almost drove him into submission.
“It’s not real. Whatever you’re remembering, it’s not real.” Santi brushed her hand across his face.
Quinn nodded, taking comfort from her gentle touch. “It never happened?”
“Only in your mind,” she said softly.
He closed his eyes, relishing her kind touch. He just needed a moment.
Finally, Quinn crossed the room to sit at the white table. He would wait for Livia’s arrival and he would face whatever she had in store for him.
“She’ll be here soon,” Santi said. “She’s going to push you hard today, but it’s only to take advantage of your current state of mind. You can’t let her win. You’ve lasted this long. If you can get through this, you’ll stay here in the penthouse. With me. The painful part is behind you—physical pain, anyway. You’ve proven you can’t be broken with a beating so she won’t waste her efforts on that … well, just that. This part is harder. She’s going to screw with your head and your emotions. But you just have to get through it.”