Page 23

ZOEY

T he bars around my cell are rough beneath my fingers.

The metal that bites into my skin is even colder than it has any right to be.

I tighten my grip. My gaze locks onto the sliver of dull light filtering through the skylight above, breaking through the gloom.

There’s no way to break through them, but maybe…

“I think I can make it.”

“Zoey, no.” Damon’s voice cuts through the thick, stale air like a blade. His voice is sharp. He steps closer to the bars of his cell and his hands appear at the edge of the dim light where they wrap around the bars. “If you fall?—”

“If I fall,” I interrupt, turning my gaze toward the sound of his voice, “maybe they’ll have to take me out of here to fix me. Maybe that’s what we need. Maybe, Damon, maybe it’s worth the risk.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Benji says. “Do you hear yourself right now? Seriously, Zoey.”

“Well, it’s the only idea I’ve got.”

“Did you learn nothing from our last argument about your safety?” One of Damon’s hands disappears into the shadows, only to slam against the bars in frustration. The echo reverberates through the empty corridor.

“That was a choice you made. This choice is all mine.”

“This is reckless, even for you.”

“Maybe, but it’s better than sitting here doing nothing.

” Before he can argue further, I grip the bars and hoist myself up.

My muscles protest the strain and tremble from exhaustion, but I grit my teeth and push through it.

Damon’s hands shoot out. I brace myself for him to pull me down, but he steadies me, his firm grip giving my feet a perch. “Thought you wanted to stop me?”

“I do,” he grumbles. “That doesn’t mean I can. You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“That’s really saying something,” Benji adds, “Because Damon’s pretty damn near unbearable on the stubborn scale.”

The metal bars dig into my palms as I climb higher. My breath comes in short bursts and my arms shake under the strain. My bare feet press against the cold steel for leverage.

“You’re insane,” Damon mutters.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” When I reach the top, I bring my feet up high on the bars and do a weird crouch against them before pushing off in a leap. My fingers catch the bars covering the skylight and I hang on with a grunt.

“Okay, seriously though, don’t die,” Benji says.

“Not planning on it.” I tilt my head back to look up at the glass that’s foggy with dirt and grime.

I let go of the bars with one hand and press my palm against it to search for a weak point, a latch, something.

My fingers scrape uselessly against the smooth surface.

I huff out my frustration. “It’s sealed.

Even if I could open it, these stupid bars?—”

“Then come down,” Damon snaps. Truth be told, I’m surprised he held out chastising me for as long as he did. “Come down before you fall and break your damn neck. ”

I glance over my shoulder. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t exactly plan a way down.”

“You don’t have a way down from there?” Benji paces in his cell. Funny, I didn’t take him for the worry kind. I figured the pacing would be reserved for Damon. Not Cole, though. No. Cole remains still as a statue, watching.

“I mean, gravity’s always an option.”

“The fuck it is,” Damon growls.

“Do you know how to say anything without growling?”

Damon grumbles something that I don’t catch.

“Well, anyway, I’ll worry about that when the time comes.” I slam my fist against the glass, hoping for some kind of miracle. Nothing. Well, that was anticlimactic.

“Are you trying to make the glass shatter down onto you?” Damon asks. I like that I can bring out that exasperation in him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, okay?” My breath hitches and frustration builds. “There doesn’t seem to be a way to open this thing?—”

A sharp intake of breath stops me cold. My head jerks downward. A dreg steps out of the shadows of the corridor. His eyes widen in surprise as he stares up at me.

“Shit,” I whisper.

Curses ring out from the surrounding cells. No one noticed this guy.

“What the hell?” the dreg starts.

My grip slips, and gravity takes over.

The fall isn’t far, but it’s enough to knock the wind out of me. Pain jolts through my back and shoulders when I crash onto the cold concrete. I gasp for breath, my lungs burning, but there’s no time to recover. The dreg steps forward with an expression that twists into fury.

Panic surges through me, and I act on instinct. My hand flies out and grabs the only weapon I have. The bucket. Still the one and only thing they’ve given me. I hurl it at the bars and flinch when the contents splash through the metal slats and straight into his open mouth.

The moment freezes and seems to stretch into eternity.

Shit. I’m going to pay for that.

Benji lets out a strangled, horrified laugh. “Holy shit.”

The dreg recoils. He sputters, gags, and wipes at his face. “You little…” he lets out a growl to rival Damon’s. His rage is thick enough to drown in.

The door to my cell flies open with such force that it slams against the bars behind it.

I scramble to my feet and try to dart past him, but he’s on me in seconds.

His hand clamps down on my arm like a vise.

I yank away and try to bolt, but he’s too fast. He yanks me back. His other hand rises, ready to strike.

Shouts erupt from around me. My guys roar threats, all three of them, but they can’t do anything while trapped in their cages other than rattle the bars.

Before the blow can land, a voice cuts through the chaos like a whip. “Enough!”

The dreg stiffens. His grip loosens. His head snaps toward the doorway.

Eugene’s face is a mask of cold amusement that sends a chill through me that’s colder than anything I’ve felt before when he strides into the cell.

His eyes flick between me and the dreg, and a slow, dangerous smile curves his lips.

“She’s mine. You don’t touch her without permission.

” His gaze darkens. “And I certainly didn’t give it. ”

I would be grateful to him for stopping the dreg, but the venom that drips from each word makes me think I had a better chance of being locked in here unarmed with rotters again.

The dreg hesitates, then decides to argue. “But she?—”

Eugene moves faster than I realize he’s capable of. His fist connects with the dreg’s jaw in a brutal arc. The crack of bone reverberates through the cell. The dreg stumbles back and clutches his face in shock.

Eugene steps closer to me. His eyes roam over my disheveled form.

My chest heaves. Anger and disgust coil in my stomach like a living thing, clear in the glare I give him.

“Let me know whenever you’re ready to stop this little rebellion of yours.

I’ve got a much nicer room waiting for you. Comfortable. Cushiony.”

His voice is all mock kindness, laced with poison.

My fingernails dig into my palms, but I don’t say a word, even though his mere existence makes my skin crawl.

Eugene chuckles, then turns to the dreg, who’s still groaning from the hit.

“Clean this mess up,” he orders, gesturing at the bucket’s spilled contents that are splattered all over the bars and the floor. Everywhere, really.

With that, he strides out, leaving the door wide open behind him. The dreg he leaves behind glares at me with a challenge. “Go ahead. Try it again, and it’ll be the same outcome. Only this time, Eugene won’t be here to stop me.”

He stands blocking the doorway, waiting for me to move, but I don’t.

A voice from the dark corridor makes me jump. “Maybe not, but I am.”

I whip my head around to find the source. Avery steps into the light with his usual smug grin in place, but there’s something else in his expression. A flicker of amusement, but also curiosity. Like he’s watching something far more interesting than he expected.

“In fact,” Avery muses, leaning against the doorway, “I’m curious to see exactly what would happen.” His gaze flicks to me, and his smirk widens. His expression fills with humor. “My bet’s on the firecracker.”