Page 56

DECLAN

“ F inn. Get in there and get her out. Now!” I scream through my headset.

Abruptly I stand, watching Conan and Finn rush into the room. The guard’s rough movements as they remove her restraints are audible before her body flops heavily into Conan’s arms.

“Be careful. This could be a trick,” I tell them.

I don’t believe my own words.

Whatever demons she came face-to-face with knocked her the fuck out.

The agony as she cried out for help was almost haunting.

In that moment, her fierceness subsided, and her true vulnerability came out. I’d expect that to excite me, but it didn’t. It made me feel sick.

“The games are over for now. Put the remaining two in the holding room. Finn, check over Ebony and let me know the verdict.”

I tug at the hem of my black T-shirt and rest my hands on the desk.

They carry her into the third room and lay her down on the bed as Reggie brings in some of Finn’s supplies that we keep nearby.

He uses a stethoscope to check her heart rate and takes her blood pressure, the cuff tightening around her arm.

Relief washes over me as she blinks her eyes open. They’re red, and she’s confused as she looks around.

“W-what happened?” Her voice is soft, almost innocent.

Relief, that is all I feel.

“You passed out,” Finn replies bluntly, not shifting focus from his task.

A masked Conan, a mountain of a man, stands arms crossed, his broad shoulders blocking the doorway completely.

“Drink this.” Finn passes her a bottle and helps her sit up.

She downs it almost in one go, and he takes it straight from her, tossing it on the floor beside him.

“Anything hurt?” he asks.

She rubs her shoulder but shakes her head.

“No.” She frowns as she looks at him.

“You’re Irish?” she asks.

“Now is no time for questions, Ebony. You lost the games,” he says flatly.

I swear she’s about to cry. But it also appears as if she’s sizing up the number of men in the room as Finn removes the blood pressure cuff from her arm.

“Why save me? Why look after me and ask how I am? I should be dead.”

Is she worried?

It sounds like it.

But this could, as Finn said, be a plot.

I hit the button for that room’s speaker.

“Contestant three. Your time in Decadence has come to an end. Which is a shame, I had high hopes for you.”

Her head snaps up to the camera.

“You are aware of the rules.”

She looks up at Conan in the doorway and Finn next to her. Looking at his belt area for a weapon, I presume.

“Before you meet your end, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

“Who?”

I tut.

“Remember the contract. No speaking back and do as you are told. We’re extending your life momentarily. Follow the guards, and we will return for you later. Your time in Decadence has been extended. For now.”

Finn scowls, his brow furrows in a deep frown, and shakes his head, his dark hair swaying slightly.

He needs to learn to trust. I press the button on my comms.

“Let’s play a new game. Put her in the holding cell.”

That gets Conan’s attention as he sends a questioning look at the camera.

It’s time to get our answers and get rid of our enemy.

Enzo might be holding his cards close, but this girl might have all the answers I need.

He can wait.

As they escort her to the cell, I shake my head, rewinding the footage of her passing out.

Her face pales as she tugs on the chains on her wrist.

I pause just as she looks at the camera.

That pain behind her eyes, the same as it was in Italy.

It hits me right in the chest, almost pushing my anger away.

“Who is hurting you, heartbreaker?” I whisper. Tapping play on the mouse, I watch again.

I zoom in on her and stop on her tattooed arm, squinting to watch her movements.

I close my eyes when I see it. Those angry red scars under the cuffs as they move.

They aren’t fresh. My fists clench, and I step away.

I need to find out why she’s here and what she wants, using my head, not my heart.

Coincidences like this don’t exist.

She isn’t a true Decadence contestant. Her body isn’t to be used and abused.

It’s to be worshipped. Just like I did that night.

But that is just a dream. A fantasy that can never be reality.

We are in our nightmare.

A fresh hell neither of us can escape.

I flick over to the footage from the holding room. Rhett has his hand on her bicep, and I want to rip his head from his shoulders for touching her.

I hold my breath as I watch the footage, changing to the inside angle as he lightly pushes her inside.

I can’t help but smirk at the confusion on her pretty little face as she realizes her first truth about the games.

“What’s your next move, heartbreaker?” I tap my desk and wait.

Time will reveal her true intentions.

But for now, I know her weakness.