Page 8 of Missing Piece (Neon Scars #2)

Adam looked up at him, surprised that there was no mention of his plea for help.

Though that made sense. If Matteo was working with the same people who were keeping him chained up, he would probably ignore any mentions of escape or help.

Come to think of it, maybe Matteo was being used to disarm him, to play ‘nice cop’ to Vincent’s ‘bad cop’.

This could all just be part of some sick game.

Play nice to get out. You have to play nice. “Bathroom. Yes. Please.”

Adam pulled the blanket off his lap, trying to look away from his stump.

Matteo glanced down at it. Adam’s face burned with embarrassment, the skin of his neck hot and tingling as he pushed down the urge to snap at Matteo to look away.

The odd man wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it would not fall under his new self-imposed rule of playing nice.

Biting his tongue, Adam swung his legs over the side of the bed, trying to figure out which door in the room led to the closet and which one led to the bathroom and how the hell he was supposed to get over to it on one foot.

Adam supposed he could abandon all dignity and hop.

Matteo leaned down, tapping his own shoulder.

Adam reached out tentatively and placed his hand on Matteo’s shoulder, locking eyes with him to make sure he didn’t misinterpret the gesture.

A flinch ran through Adam as Matteo’s icy hand rested on his waist as he stood up and allowed Matteo to bear his weight as he hobbled across the room to the door on the left.

The sound of the chain rattling and scraping the hardwood floors echoed in his skull. Adam hated it .

Adam pulled the door open and reached for the sink, leaning against it as he pulled himself away from the silent man’s freezing touch. Vincent’s hands had felt unnaturally cold, but Matteo was downright frigid. “I got it,” Adam said, turning to Matteo so he could see his face. “I got it.”

Matteo gestured to the toilet before stepping out. At least this kidnapper was nice enough not to watch him piss. But the door remained open.

With a sigh, Adam looked around. There wasn’t even a mirror in this bathroom. Just a sink and a blank spot on the wall where a mirror had probably once sat. Someone else must have had the same idea Adam had. Break the mirror and use the glass as a weapon.

Dismissing the thought, Adam maneuvered himself to the toilet, wobbling as he balanced on one foot to get his boxers down enough for him to sit. He wasn’t above sitting down to pee at this point. Not when there were more pressing concerns.

Burying his face in his hands as he began to relieve himself, Adam tried not to groan from the sheer joy of finally being able to empty his bladder. What did Matteo mean when he had been asleep for a long time? How long had Adam actually been out? How many appointments did he miss?

If Vincent doesn’t kill me, my parents definitely will when they find out I’ve fucked up my plea bargain.

Adam sat for a moment longer, looking around the bathroom for something, anything, he could use to get the leg cuff off. There was just a towel and a single bar of soap. Not even a toothbrush he could whittle down with his teeth.

Pulling the toilet paper roll off the holder, Adam removed the rod and frowned when he realized it was a solid piece of plastic.

If it had been an older style, he could have pulled the spring out.

Adam set the roll and the rod on the counter and braced against the sink as he pulled himself up.

A glance at the opened doorway confirmed Matteo wasn’t peering in at him as he fumbled with his boxers, trying not to lose his balance.

Placing his elbows on the countertop as he washed his hands, Adam’s body desperately wanted to place weight on his right side.

He was so used to spending the majority of his day in the prosthetic that he never bothered to get used to trying to balance on one foot.

Plus, dehydration was making him feel wobbly as hell.

A hand touched his shoulder, making Adam flinch. He glanced around expecting to see Matteo’s oddly friendly face, but he jumped as Vincent’s face stared at him instead. “Fuck!”

“Good afternoon to you as well,” Vincent said, sounding pleasant despite the stony look in his eyes.

Adam grimaced as Vincent’s other hand gripped his side, just a bit too hard, turning him around and pressing him against the counter.

The urge to shove the blond away from him was strong, but Adam’s hands squeezed Vincent’s forearms as he steadied himself instead.

Play nice. Play nice. For once in your life, don’t act like a dick.

Adam cleared his throat. “Hi,” he said terser than he intended.

Play nice.

Vincent smirked, his eyes wandering over Adam’s face before drifting lower, lingering on his injured neck for a moment before taking in the rest of his body.

Vincent pulled an arm away from Adam’s grip, running his cool finger over the tattoo on the left side of Adam’s chest. “What is this for?” Vincent asked, tracing the lines of it .

Adam glanced down at his chest, always forgetting about that stupid smiley face tattoo he let a drunk apprentice give him at a house party his senior year.

It’s not like it was bad. Just dumb. “I let someone practice on me once,” he said, feeling a tinge of heat in his face.

Looking up at Vincent, Adam’s words died in his throat.

Vincent’s face was close. Too close. “Uh, it, um, it doesn’t mean anything. ”

Vincent’s steely blue eyes met his as his smirk turned into a grin, like he could see how Adam’s mind was working. “That’s not a good reason to permanently mark your body,” Vincent said. He leaned his face closer and brushed Adam’s hair away from his forehead.

Adam swallowed hard. Vincent probably had the clearest skin Adam had ever seen. And those eyes were beautiful. Adam hated how attractive he found his captor. Even Vincent’s lips looked like they were soft. And they were close enough for Adam to feel Vincent’s cool breath on his own lips.

Don’t play too nice. Stop thinking about this. “Can I go to the bed?” Adam asked. “I’m not good without my other foot and I’d rather not get a concussion.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes at Adam before releasing his grip.

“Sure, why not,” Vincent said with a shrug.

Taking a step away, his gaze lingered on Adam’s body for a moment longer before he stepped backward out of the bathroom.

Vincent signed something quickly at Matteo, who still stood outside the door.

Adam let out the breath he was holding. How did Vincent get into the room so quickly and quietly? He’s not human. There’s no way he is human. Just get this reality through your thick skull, Adam .

Matteo stepped into the bathroom, leaning his shoulder toward Adam.

Adam nodded a quick thanks at him and allowed Matteo to slowly walk him across the room towards the bed.

Embarrassment burned in his cheeks, slowly spreading across his whole face.

Adam didn’t want help. He wanted his foot and to go to his shitty place while he waited for the county sheriffs to issue a warrant for his arrest.

Wait. A warrant. That could help. If one was issued, they would try to find him, right?

And once it became clear that he had not been home, his parents might call in some favors at the local police department.

His dad had worked in the prosecutor’s office for a few years before starting his personal injury firm.

Surely, he still had some friends over there.

Adam signed a quick thank you to Matteo as the eerily friendly man set him down on the bed. Watching Vincent and Matteo sign to each other, he wondered what they were to each other. Were they friends? Business partners in whatever kidnapping operation this was?

Was Matteo not human as well?

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to wait for the sheriff’s or his parents to try to find him.

Hell, Adam still didn’t even know if he was in town.

His focus needed to be on finding a way out.

On finding something to get the cuff off his ankle, go find whatever they did with his prosthetic, and steal one of their cars.

Vincent’s movements in and out of the house needed to be ascertained.

A notepad thrust in his direction snapped Adam from his thoughts.

“It was nice to meet you. Keep this one for next time. I’ll teach you more signs later.

” Looking up from the writing as he took the notepad, Adam nodded at Matteo as he tried to figure out what the hell the man’s deal was.

Why was he being so nice? It was more than jarring. It was unsettling.

Vincent watched as Matteo exited the room, waiting until the door was shut behind him before he turned his attention to Adam.

“A strange one, isn’t he?” Vincent asked, moving over to the side of the bed that Adam sat on.

Vincent grabbed Adam’s chin, moving his face from side to side. “You don’t bruise easily.”

Adam clenched his jaw as that same weird warmth started to spread through him from Vincent’s touch as before. “No,” Adam said through his teeth.

“Interesting,” Vincent mused before sitting down a little too close to him.

Play nice. Adam looked down at his hands, realizing his fists were balled tight, his knuckles nearly white. It took a few seconds for his hands to respond and unfurl, but Vincent grabbed Adam’s chin again before his hands had fully relaxed.

“Look at me when I speak to you,” Vincent said, his tone sharp.

Adam met Vincent’s eyes, surprised they didn’t match his tone. Those eyes were still cold, just like the rest of him, but there was something else in there. Something uncertain.

“Sorry,” Adam said softly, licking his dry lips as he tried to think of the best way to phrase his next question. He needed to be careful. Nice. But not too nice.

“We need to go over some rules,” Vincent said as he released Adam’s chin.