Runaway (The Knight Society #1)

The next time I woke up, I was back in the hospital bed, only this time with a few new additions. I tugged at the straps binding my wrists to the bed frame.

“Is this really necessary?” I asked Pierre.

Thankfully it was just him and me alone in the room this time. No crazy crowd gossiping in the corners. He let out a sigh and leaned forward in the chair he was occupying.

“I’m sorry Jack, but we can’t let you go until we know that you aren’t going to try and run away again.”

Well looks like I’m going to be here for a while, because hell will freeze over before that happens.

My face must have said as much, because he sighed once again, “Okay, why don’t we just start from the beginning?”

We sat in a stalemate-type silence for a while. Despite my bloodied appearance, he just continued to smile. Under his expectant look, I began to grow uncomfortable. Although it looked cool in Hollywood movies, being covered in blood wasn’t all that glorified and spectacular. As it dried, my clothes became stiff and my skin developed an unbearable itch. The smell choked my nostrils, a stale copper stench. In short, it was disgusting. I would do just about anything for a shower right about now. Wrists tied, I wasn’t able to scratch more than my palms. Flakes of dried blood came away working their way under my nails. I couldn’t see it, but I knew my hair was a matted bloody nightmare.

Ha. Bloody.

A small ghost of a laugh escaped my mouth and Pierre’s eyebrows went up in surprise.

Great, now he probably thinks you’re crazy.

All patience for the silence game we were playing having disappeared under a layer of discomfort, I sullenly conceded defeat.

“What’s it going to take to get me out of these restraints and into a shower?” I grumped.

“I’m assuming that asking you to swear you won’t run away again is asking too much?”

I gave him a look and he chuckled. I did a quick calculation in my brain, the last I’d heard of my parents, they were tracking a large group of mongrels in Cairo. That was about a month ago. They could be anywhere in the world by now. At least this part of Scotland was fairly remote, far enough away from the main cities that it took time and effort to reach the Institute. Meaning I had some time to spare, a couple of days at least, and the idea of spending a night in an actual bed did sound amazing.

“I can give you a day.” I levelled.

He looked at me, considering my offer, “24 hours exactly?”

I rolled my eyes, “Yes.”

He considered some more before giving a short nod, “Deal.”

“I would say we should shake on it but…” I wriggled my tied hands and Pierre laughed again.

“Let me help you with that.”

He reached into his back pocket and retrieved a switch blade. Seconds later, I was free and rubbing at the tender skin around my wrists. I glanced up at Pierre.

“Time?” I asked and he gave me a wry smile.

“8:09 AM.” He said after a glance at his watch.

“24 hours from now.” I held out my hand and he shook it. “Exactly,” I added with a hint of gravity.

He just gave another small nod.

“Now about that shower.”

He chuckled again and opened the door, “Follow me. I’ll show you to a room you can use for the day.”

I followed him out of the room and down the long corridor. The first time I had run down the hallway, I hadn’t really had the chance to admire my surroundings. Now that we were moving at an easy stroll and I wasn’t so hell bent on escaping, I let my gaze wander.

Like all Institutes, the building was made out of white marble. To some it might appear regal and fancy, but I’d spent enough years trapped inside one of these buildings to only feel a cold protection from the marble palaces. The hallway was empty except for the doors that appeared every now and then. Mahogany with golden plaques placed above the door frames. They all had unusual titles like Umbrella, Danger, and Rubber Ducks. I had learned years ago to exercise caution when walking into one of those rooms. The signs were accurate, but usually in the strangest ways.

The sound of footsteps slapping caught my attention. They grew closer until finally, the dark-haired guy I’d knocked on his ass earlier, rounded the corner. He came to a stop in front of us, eyeing me warily. I ignored the look, instead focusing on the nearby door which had the title Satin Gloves. Pierre and Giggles moved away from me slightly, talking in hushed tones before Pierre turned back to face me.

“Sorry Jack, but something has come up. Avery here will show you to your room.”

So Giggles had a name.

Avery, hmmm.

Pierre hurried of, leaving Avery and I standing in awkward silence. Now that he was no longer an immediate threat, I took in his surprisingly handsome face. The combination of his tan skin, slightly curly brown hair, and pastel blue eyes would have left me weak at the knees any other day, especially with the lean muscular build he seemed to suit so well. Too tired and cranky to appreciate him and his glory, I merely gestured for him to lead the way. He took off at a brisk pace which I begrudgingly kept up with. After more twists and turns we finally arrived at a door with the title Guest 02. He gestured towards the handle, face impassive. I gripped the knob and opened the door to find a sumptuously luxurious room.

The large queen sized bed lay at the back of the room, a mouth-watering invitation in crisp white sheets. Glancing around I took in the open planned small kitchen and lounge area. Off to the side a large bathroom gleamed, promising fresh hot water. Turning back around, I found Gigg- Avery standing at the door watching me with curious eyes. Returning the gesture, I studied him in the dim light of the hallway. He was staring at me with a carefully blank expressions, but I could see the gleam of interest in his eyes. There was a newfound calculation in his gaze, registering that I was an actual threat now that he knew my name. The thought sickened me and I decided now was a good time to say goodbye.

“Thanks,” I said.

He blinked a couple of times, seeming surprised. Was it such a shock I had basic manners? Rolling my eyes, I turned back into the room and shut the door. The bed quietly beckoned me. However the building smell that radiated off my body pushed me to the shower first. On the bathroom counter lay all the essentials; soap, toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, and thank god, a hairbrush. Quickly stripping, I delved into the hot water. Seizing the bar of soap, I scrubbed at my skin till I was sure all traces of blood were gone. I then tackled my hair which was as bad as I thought it was. Blood had dried in clumps and left it brittle and sticky. I insisted on keeping it long because Thomas had once said my hair was one of the only girly things about me and often liked to tug on my ponytail. It was a silly girly indulgence and a huge pain in the arse when I fought but I couldn’t care less. Like my name, it reminded of Thomas but not only that, it reminded me of the good times I had with him and I had so little good reminders left.

I watched as the last traces of blood spiralled down the drain. Exhaustion caught up to me and by the time I exited the shower, I was shaking on my feet. I quickly ran a brush through my hair, knowing that if I left it till the morning it would be worse. Eyeing my dirty clothes, I cringed at the thought of getting back into them. Thankfully someone had left some pyjamas on the end of the bed for me. After slipping them on, I dived under the soft white duvet and let what was hopefully peaceful dreams consume me.