Page 10

COLE

T he quiet is the worst part, and after so long in dark silence, I never thought I would crave the spoken word again.

Zoey sits curled in the corner of her cell with her back pressed against the cold stone wall and her knees tucked tight to her chest. She’s trying to make herself small, trying to disappear, but the dim shaft of light filtering through her barred window betrays her.

The golden glow catches the tear tracks on her cheeks and the slight tremble of her shoulders while she cries.

She’s silent and controlled, but I still see it. I can’t stop watching her.

Something about it tears at me. Makes my skin itch with restlessness. My fingers curl into fists while anger simmers beneath the surface. A slow, dangerous burn that refuses to fade since Eugene walked in here and shattered whatever small grip Zoey had left on herself.

I press my palms against the wall and suck in a sharp breath, trying to bury the rage that threatens to consume me, but it’s no use.

The memory of his smug expression, the way Zoey recoiled, the way her entire body locked up like she’d been physically struck, is seared into my skull.

I don’t even know this girl, not really, but the urge to protect her overwhelms me. Before I can stop myself, I swing.

The impact echoes off the stone walls. Pain explodes through my knuckles in a sharp, satisfying sting. The wall cracks beneath my fist, sending a fine spray of dust and rubble to the floor. A slow trickle of blood snakes its way down my wrist before dripping onto my bare feet.

I stare at the mess for a second while trying to pull myself together, which is useless since I can’t see shit.

I’ve been trapped in the dark for so long, I’ve lost track of the days, along with parts of myself piece by piece while I let the numbness take over.

Now, for the first time in a long time, I feel something real.

Something sharp. Sharper than the rubble piercing my knuckles.

The silence stretches. When I glance back, Zoey lifts her head enough for me to glimpse her tear-streaked face before she ducks back down to bury herself in the crook of her arms. The sight sends another wave of fury crashing through me.

My chest tightens with it, and I take a slow step toward the bars before gripping them with bloodies fingers.

Then, before I can think better of it, I say the first word I’ve spoken in weeks.

“Zoey.” My voice is rough and rusty from disuse. It’s barely more than a gravelly whisper, but it might as well be a gunshot in the dead silence.

Benji lets out a low whistle. “Holy shit, he speaks.”

I ignore him. Zoey stiffens and her shoulders go rigid. She doesn’t look up. Doesn’t move. I press my forehead against the cool steel of the bars. “Who’s Drew?”

Zoey’s breath catches. Her head snaps up, and her blue eyes lock onto mine. They’re wide with shock. “What?”

“Drew.” I keep my tone neutral, though the anger still simmers beneath the surface. I don’t care who this person was. All I’m focused on is how the aftermath is affecting her. There’s clearly an unhealed wound there. “Who was he to you? A friend? A lover?”

She huffs, a humorless laugh slipping from her lips despite the rawness in her expression. “No. God, no.”

Relief flashes through me, sharp and unexpected.

A feeling I don’t want to analyze right now.

I grip the bars tighter and watch her closely while I piece together the fragments of her reaction.

The way her entire body tenses at the mention of his name.

The way her fingers twitch against her knees, like she’s bracing for impact.

This person was important to her. Important enough to have left a wound that’s still unhealed.

“Brother, then.”

Her sharp intake of breath tells me everything I need to know.

She tries to say something, but the words catch in her throat. That’s fine, I can wait.

I stay quiet, giving her space and waiting for her when she’s ready. Unlike Damon, I won’t push, but I don’t back off either. The sharp tapping of his metal ring tells me the wait is killing him, but I’m glad he’s not being his pushy dickish self right now.

She stares at me, her throat working as she swallows hard. When she finally speaks, her voice is barely a whisper. “How did you…?”

“Doesn’t matter. What did Eugene do to him?”

Her entire body flinches at the name. The reaction is visceral. Instinctive. It makes my blood burn.

She pulls her knees in tighter, her nails digging into her shins. For a second, I think she’s going to shut down completely, but then, after a long silence, she lets out a shaky exhale and whispers, “Drew tried to protect me.”

My grip tightens. I should be able to bend the bars at this point.

Her fingers tremble. She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her forehead against her knees like she’s trying to disappear. “Eugene wanted me. He’s always wanted me. Possessing people, especially women, is what he does. Drew, well, he stopped him.”

Benji mutters a curse under his breath, and Damon’s tapping gets faster and more frantic.

Zoey’s voice cracks when she continues. “Drew wouldn’t let him take me, so Eugene killed him. Right in front of me.” She shakes her head. “If I hadn’t tried to stop him from attacking another woman who I didn’t even know, if Drew and I would have continued on our way…”

“Blaming yourself for the actions of others is the least productive thing one can do in life,” Benji says.

Her words hang heavy in the air, and they make me want to tear this place apart with my bare hands. Too bad these bars are in the way. Eugene’s smug face flashes through my mind again, and I clench my jaw to force myself to stay calm. “You got away.”

She nods. “Barely.” Her throat works as she swallows hard. “I didn’t realize he’s been looking for me ever since. I didn’t realize he still thinks I’m his.”

The disgust in her voice makes a dark, ugly feeling coil in my gut. “You’re not.”

She blinks and her lips part when she glances over at me, confused. “What?”

“You’re not his,” I repeat. My voice is as cold as the unbreakable steel beneath my fingers. “He doesn’t own you.”

Her lips tremble, and she looks away before swiping at her face with the back of her hand. “It doesn’t matter. He’s here now, and I’m trapped. He finally caught me.”

“Not for long.” I say it like a promise. I have no idea how to keep it, but I will.

She doesn’t respond right away, but something in the way her body shifts, something in the way her fingers loosen around her knees, tells me she’s listening. That she wants to believe me.

I hear Benji shifting in his cell, his usual chatter absent. His cot creaks when he lowers himself onto it. Damon doesn’t say a word, but his tapping has stopped. I know he’s angry. At the dregs, at Eugene. At himself, because he blames himself for everything.

Zoey takes a shuddering breath. Her voice comes out in almost a whisper. “I just want to get out of here.”

“We will,” I say. The words slip out before I can stop them.

We will, sunshine.