Page 25 of Caught in the Crossfire

My head whipped to his. “Yes, you can. We will never talk about it. We will get out of here. We will move on. I’m fine.”

I had no tears left. I had only fury. I had only focus. The box inside my gut rattled, but I wrapped ten more chains around it and closed it off. The pain dulled and disappeared. My arms tightened around my body. The scratches on my chest stopped hurting.

It was working.

Bury it.

I would survive. Once I was out of here, and all of them were dead, I would be fine.

I could control this.

He stopped trying to talk to me. He sat down next to me, and when his hand reached for mine, I let him wrap our fingers together. After maybe an hour of silence, he started telling me stories again. He talked about the one time we played hide and seek in his backyard and I hid so well that he couldn’t find me for hours. He talked about how he used to love watching his mombraid my hair because the patterns were so interesting. He talked about how we got into that massive snowball fight with Cas one year and then all three of us ended up sick.

I couldn’t close my eyes, or else I’d relive every single injury on my body, so I just stared at the way his thigh pressed into mine. It passed the time. Eventually, he ran out of stories.

“What time is it?” I asked, breaking the silence that had stretched between us for who knew how long.

“Leona…”

I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat at the soft way he spoke my name. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “Almost 6 p.m.”

I chewed my lip. “Do you think they’ll come back again? Soon?”

Max squeezed my hand. “Yeah.”

My eyes slid to the shadows where I knew my knife was hidden. Then I looked at Max. The blood on the side of his face from his split lip was dried and crusty. Neither of us were in good shape.

We had to survive. I’d get us both out of here.

But I wouldn’t sit here and wait for the next round of hell.

The knife would give me some control back. I might catch Buzz Cut off guard the next time. I could drive the knife into his neck and watch the life bleed from his eyes.

I carefully stood, disentangling myself from Max’s grasp.

“Leona,” Max whispered. “What are you doing?”

I ignored him, moving to the far corner of the cell and sitting down as close as I could against the wall. Max’s face fell into something like grief. Like maybe he thought I didn’t want to be near him?

That wasn’t why I had moved.

I reached through the bars, stretching my arm as far across the floor as possible. My fingers brushed the handle of my knife.I closed my eyes and sighed when I grasped its hilt and pulled it through the bars.

Max’s eyes widened, then hardened, as I tucked the knife into the pocket of his jacket. He nodded slightly. We’d already agreed we’d kill him for what he’d done on this ship, but Max’s look was more than that. He was agreeing to fight back with me the next time they came.

To take our chances.

I paced around the cell to make it look on the cameras like I was just stretching my legs. After another few minutes, I sat back down next to Max.

“Our deal still stands? To get us back to New York?” He glanced at me sideways. “If we live that long.”

“When my men come, we’ll take you with us,” I said. “Truce until we’re off the ship.”

He nodded. “When they come back, I’ll cause a distraction. You attack with the knife.”

“If we catch them off guard, we’ll make our way to the bridge.” It was unlikely that we’d get that far, but a plan meant control, and control meant I didn’t have to think about the scratches on my chest.