Page 5 of Little Bird (Advantage Play 3)

I’m going insane. I can’t handle this. The isolation. The cold. The creaking pipes. All of it. I’m so exhausted and would kill for some sleep, but I don’t dare touch that mattress. Its presence is already enough to give me hives. I can’t imagine lying on it to get some rest.

I’ve been pacing the floors, jiggling the door handle, searching the bed frame for a loose screw––anything to get me out of here.

But they aren’t stupid.

I’m stuck. And it scares the hell out of me.

At the muffled sound of keys, I turn to the door to see it swing open, revealing Dex. The only guy I’ve really seen or talked to since I was brought to this room.

“Hey.” He lifts his chin in greeting before putting a tray on the bed. “Brought you some food and a blanket.”

Hesitantly, I watch him, but don’t take a step closer to the gifts he’s placed in my cell. My stomach grumbles at the sight of the food, even though it looks less than appetizing.

“It’s soup and a roll,” he offers, motioning to the food.

“I can see that.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Is it poisoned?” I counter.

With a teasing smile, he tells me, “No offense, Little Bird, but if we wanted to kill you, I don’t think we’d need to use poison to do it.”

Good point.

My bare feet make scuffing noises against the concrete in the otherwise quiet room as I step closer. When I reach for the soup, I can feel his eyes on me. Clearing my throat, I look toward him and ask, “I’m sorry, but do you need to watch me eat?”

“Sorry.” He shrugs. “Boss’s orders.”

“You don’t look very apologetic,” I point out before lifting the spoon and bringing it to my mouth.

My nose wrinkles as soon as it touches my tongue.

“Sometimes, it’s easier to be indifferent in this business, Little Bird. Is there a problem with the soup?”

“It’s cold.”

His hand grips the back of his neck, and he has the decency to look sheepish. “Yeah. Sorry about that. Didn’t really want to get third-degree burns from one of you throwing your bowls at me.”

My mouth tilts up in the corner.

“Good point,” I mutter under my breath. Taking another bite of soup, we sit in silence until I’m almost finished and gain the courage to voice a question that’s been driving me mad. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, eyeing me warily.

“Why’d you take me?”

“I didn’t take you.”

Bullshit.

“Okay, why’d your friend take me? Why’d your boss take me? Why am I here?” I ask, feeling frustrated. “I’m a nobody, Dex. I don’t understand.”

He almost flinches when I utter his name, but I don’t comment on it. I need answers. And I need them now if I have any hope of getting out of here.

“No offense, but most of the time, girls like you are taken because you’re a nobody,” he explains.

“What does that mean?” I notice I’m shivering and start rubbing my hands up and down my arms. I’m still only wearing his shirt that he left a day or two ago, but it doesn’t help much with warmth.