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WREN

“You know how to pick locks, and you’re just telling me?” I asked Locke as he drove through the sheets of rain, the night closing in around us.

Pink hit Locke’s cheeks as he turned the windshield wipers to a higher speed. “I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing.”

“I want to know how to break into any building I want,” I muttered. It would’ve come in handy all the times my father left me in chains. I shuddered at the reminder and shoved the memory down.

A small smile played on Locke’s lips. “I can start teaching you tonight if you want.”

It had been a week since that explosive day with King and Locke. King was affectionate but hadn’t taken anything further than kisses and hugs. Locke spent every night in my bed, holding me tightly. In fact, he made it his mission to cuddle me at every opportunity.

The rest of the guys were keeping their distance. I’d expected that from Ender and Brix, but Puck was surprising. He still flirted and teased, but he never got close. I didn’t want to look too hard at why that hurt.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the night sky. I shivered. “A lock-picking lesson sounds perfect.” I paused. “Wait, is that why they call you Locke?”

His lips twitched, and he nodded. “It’s how King found me. Needed someone to help him get into a safe. But he was the first person to see my worth beyond that.”

My heart ached for him; the way his parents’ abandonment made him feel like he wasn’t worthy. They were the ones who weren’t. I reached over and placed my hand on his thigh. “You’re amazing.”

Locke’s gaze cut to me briefly before returning to the road, his throat working as he swallowed. “Thanks, Wren.”

He pulled to a stop in front of the house, staring out at the rain. “You okay to make a run for it?”

I chuckled as I studied the torrential downpour. “A little water won’t hurt me.”

Locke shut off the SUV and palmed the keys. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

We bolted from the vehicle, laughing like unhinged idiots as we ran for the house. By the time we reached the door, we were soaked to the skin, my hair plastered to my face. Locke struggled to get the key into the deadbolt but finally succeeded, and we hurried inside.

Our laughter continued as we spilled into the entryway, and Locke flipped the deadbolt behind us. I glanced down, wincing. “I’m getting water everywhere.”

“It’ll dry,” Locke said. “Come on. Let’s get warm.”

As we walked deeper into the house, the lights went out. No, not just the lights, everything electronic. I froze, panic starting to seep into my veins. My breaths came faster, one tripping over the other .

Locke muttered a curse. “Lines must be down.”

But I couldn’t grab hold of his words. My lungs burned, and my fingers tingled as memories assaulted me. The pit. So dark I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Nothing but darkness and pain.

My skin burned from the last whipping, my father’s words still echoing in my ears. “I’ll beat the weakness out of you.” I shivered as the rain came faster, pounding against the wounds on my back and stomach.

A soft cry left my lips as I curled into a ball, the dirt turning to mud around me. I prayed for it to take me, to swallow me whole.

“Wren?” A voice pulled me from the memory, and hands tightened around my shoulders.

I moved on instinct, fighting against the hold. They wouldn’t get me, not again. I lashed out with a punch to someone’s torso. They let out a strangled oomph and then a curse.

“Wren,” they said. “It’s me.”

I started to run. I didn’t know where; I just needed out. Away. I wouldn’t go back. Not to the pit. Never again.

“Jesus, what the hell is happening?” a new voice asked. Some flicker in the back of my brain recognized my British charmer, but the rest of me was too far gone.

Strong hands caught me. “Easy, Birdie.”

I flailed, fighting against the newcomer, screaming.

“Bloody hell. Help me, Locke.”

More hands. Holding me down. Keeping me in place.

I fought with all my strength until my muscles gave out, and my throat was raw. “I won’t go back. You’ll have to kill me first.”

And then, I passed out.