Page 47

NYX

The shame clung to me and I couldn’t shake the oppressiveness. I hated feeling like I should have fought back even though he’d made it impossible. Vetticus had restrained me, drugged me and subjected me to psychological and sexual abuse. Now, I couldn’t look anyone in the eye and I wanted to both scream and murder someone with my bare hands. I was currently attacking the punching bag in the gym while the rest of the guys worked out nearby. I was shirtless, drenched in sweat but furiously trying to get rid of the rage inside me. My shoulders were aching, and I was gasping for breath when I finally stopped.

We only had about thirty minutes left to be outside so I took off across the lawn to the dirt track that circled the pond. I did sprints until I couldn’t anymore and collapsed on the soft grass, staring up at the sky.

I heard the steps of someone and turned to see Atlas lower himself down near me. He stretched his legs out and leaned back on his hands as he followed my gaze up to the sky. It was a gloomy day and my sweat was quickly growing cold on my skin. Atlas tossed me my t-shirt, and I put it on with a grateful nod of my head. He passed me a water bottle next and watched me take a sip. I felt awkward in my body after last night. I’d hoped working out would bring me back but apparently it was going to take time.

I’d always prided myself in being resilient, tough and unbreakable under pressure. Vetticus had stripped all of that away in hours with a drug and his fucked up personal sexual vendetta. The fucked up part was, he’d manipulated my body but he broke my mind. For a moment I’d lost my anchor to reality and myself, and he’d capitalized on it. I was embarrassed and filled with shame that I couldn’t endure it. I was afraid Atlas would ask me about what happened but when he finally spoke it wasn’t what I expected.

“I think our escape plan is going to have to center on finding the perfect map,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, a map like this last one wouldn’t be a good choice. It’s too open and exposed. A map like the first one—the torn up city—that would be easier, less exposed.”

I nodded. “Makes sense. We have a little problem though.”

“The trackers, yeah.”

“I mean, we have access to knives during the games so it’ll just be a matter of getting them out quickly. It’ll all have to be timed perfectly.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes—I’d promised North I wouldn’t hide.

“How’s your shoulder?”

I asked him.

“Hurts like a bitch,”

he grumbled. “I could really use some pain killers—or a shot of whiskey at least.”

“Oh god, alcohol,”

I moaned. “I’d kill for a stiff drink right now.”

“I bet there’s some in that house,”

Atlas said, looking off at the massive mansion ominously watching over us from its perch on the hill. I frowned, knowing there was.

“That’s where they took me,”

I said quietly. I don’t know why I said it because I didn’t want him to pry and ask questions, but instead of speaking, his gaze hardened as he looked at the house. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but he finally held up his hands as though he was holding a rocket launcher and made a sound effect like he was firing.

“One day,”

he said. “I’m going be holding an actual rocket launcher aimed at that building.”

He sighed and stood up, taking a moment to dust himself off before he held out his hand to me. I hesitated.

“I don’t want to talk about it,”

I blurted out. “And I don’t want anyone’s pity.”

Atlas’ eyes narrowed. He shook his head and gave me a small smile.

“No one pities you, Nyx,”

he said dryly. “We just want you to be okay. If you want to forget—we’ll forget—if you want to talk about it—I’m here to listen—if you want to plan all the ways we’re going to brutally murder Vetticus when we get out of here, then by all means, please give me all the graphic details. But pity you?”

He shoved his hand forward again. “It’s just not what we do.”

I grabbed his forearm and climbed to my feet but when I tried to extract my arm, he pulled me closer. I froze.

“We’re in this together,”

he said, but it almost sounded like a question.

The memory of watching him touch himself as I came down Red’s throat jumped into my head but I quickly shied away from it. After what Vetticus did, was I allowed to think about Atlas that way? Or was that now a product of Vetticus’ abuse? Did I want another man touching me sexually after everything I’d just endured?

I pushed it all from my mind. Those were questions for another day—one day.

Instead, I nodded and gave him a small but grateful smile.

“Yeah, we’re in this together.”