Page 24

AVERY

I take my time strolling down the corridor, unbothered by Eugene storming off like a tantrum-throwing child. His boots hammer against the concrete with every furious step, and his men scatter like rats, desperate to look busy with anything but him.

Pathetic.

“What’s all this, then?” I ask. I keep my tone calm, almost disinterested, despite the electric anticipation thrumming through me.

Truth be told, since she woke up in my office, anything involving her has become the most interesting part of my otherwise dull, dreadful life.

I’ve found myself wandering into the shadows of this cell block to watch her merely exist. My skin becomes electrified at the thought of what I’m about to witness for myself, rather than hearing about it through the grapevine.

Watching her, listening to the stories about her antics, it’s become a rare source of amusement in this cesspool.

And today? Well, today is already shaping up to be delightful. I only wish I would have been here earlier to watch all of this unfold in real time. If only I could have seen her throw that bucket. What a sight that must have been.

The scene before me is a mess. One man, Wilkes, is standing inside her cell, drenched and seething, his face a deep shade of red.

The source of his misery? Her bucket, no doubt.

A fitting insult. His fists clench at his side.

His rage pours off him in waves, not at all diminishing with my presence, yet my bet is still on the firecracker.

I almost regret making my presence known, because I would have loved to see what she would have done to him.

Inside the cell, Zoey stands tall, all five-foot-seven of her, if I had to guess. Her breath comes out quick and sharp, but her chin lifts in defiance. Even soaked in sweat and exhaustion, she radiates fire.

Beautiful.

“Stupid little—” Wilkes mutters, turning back to face her, like he’s about to storm in further and make a mistake. I’m saving his life, really. Zoey doesn’t need me at all. Still, I can’t turn away.

I lift a lazy hand to stop him in his tracks. “Wilkes, stand down. Let’s not make a spectacle.”

He freezes, but turns to face me. Frustration twists his features. I’ve always thought him to be an ugly excuse for a man, but this look really takes the cake. It finally matches his personality. “She threw?—”

“I see what she threw,” I interrupt. My gaze flicks to the damp floor. “Now, here we are. Shall we handle this with a bit more…finesse?”

Wilkes hesitates and shifts uncomfortably under my gaze. He’s eager for retribution, but he also knows better than to push his luck. Before he can respond, the moment fractures with a low, menacing growl.

Zoey looks at the cell next to her and frowns. Wilkes and I both freeze. The growl is deep and guttural. Zoey’s gaze snaps to my feet and my eyes flick downward when something small and fierce steps out of the darkness.

Lola.

Her stance is firm and her small frame vibrates with tension while she bares her teeth at Wilkes, protecting Zoey. I grin. Well, what have we here? I must not have closed the door behind me in my eagerness to get here.

Zoey’s eyes widen. “Lola?”

The dog’s tail flicks once at the sound of her name, but her growl only deepens when Wilkes shifts on his feet.

I lift a brow. “You afraid of a little dog, Wilkes?”

“Of course not,” he scoffs, but I see the tension in his shoulders. “Boss man doesn’t like her down here, though. He worries the prisoners will hurt her.”

Lola snaps her teeth at him when he moves again, and Wilkes jumps enough to make my grin widen. “She seems to be under the impression the only dangerous one here is you, dear Wilkes. Now why would that be?”

The men in the other cells lose it. Their voices overlap in shouts and laughter. “Holy shit,” Benji wheezes. “This just got better.”

“Smart dog,” the low voice behind me mutters.

“Damn near the best thing I’ve seen all week,” Damon adds.

I spare a glance in his direction, wishing I could see the face of the man who gave Greg a black eye.

Thanks to Damon, he hasn’t tried coming back in here since.

Eugene put him on bathroom duty. Well, Eugene didn’t.

I only told Greg that he did. One of the best lies I’ve told.

Zoey’s lips twitch despite the situation. Her body visibly relaxes for the first time since I stepped into her space. Interesting.

“Well, as much fun as this is, we really should move on.” I step forward and gesture for Wilkes to get the hell out, but everyone must take it the wrong way. The other captive men who were cheering Lola moments before, are now starting their protests with me.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Benji threatens.

“Leave her alone,” Damon growls out, his tone low and dangerous. Interesting. I’d like to put him in a growling competition with Lola.

Cole says nothing at first, but I feel his gaze boring into the back of my head. Then, so low that I almost miss it, “If you hurt her, you’ll regret it.”

Their threats ignite my curiosity. I wonder exactly how far they’ll go to keep her safe. This could be a thrilling little game, and I’ve got nothing else to do today.

I ignore them. Their protests are as expected. Predictable, even. What I care about is how far they’re willing to go. I lock the cell door behind me and turn to face Wilkes. “You’re angry. Well, go on, then. Let’s see how you handle it.”

Zoey’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t flinch. She knows I’m up to something. This intrigues me even more. She already knows me so well. “Eugene won’t like this.”

As if on cue, Lola paws at the bars from the other side.

I chuckle and lean back against the bars with my arms crossed over my chest, getting comfortable. “Well, you see, I don’t give a single fuck about what Eugene likes and doesn’t like.”

Her gaze shifts when Wilkes lunges at her. His movements are clumsy and fueled by anger. Zoey sidesteps his first swing with surprising ease and quick, honed reflexes. Then she uses his momentum to shove him toward the bars a mere couple of inches from me.

The violent protests from the other captives disappear into the darkness. My entire focus is on the fascinating woman in front of me with stunning blue eyes and an underappreciated fierceness.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she taunts, backing up toward the bars on one side of the cell .

Wilkes snarls and grabs at her again, but this time he gets too close to the wrong bars. Damon’s hands shoot out like steel traps and lock around Wilkes’ wrist with a sickening crunch. Wilkes howls and stumbles back, cradling his now-broken wrist.

A grin spreads across my face, and I’m pretty sure my eyes are shining with glee. What a successful experiment.

The room is electric now. Damon’s hands retreat through the bars. The other captives start shouting again. Their voices melt together into a mixture of threats and concern.

“So protective,” I muse aloud, though mostly to myself.

My gaze shifts between Zoey and the surrounding darkness of the other cells.

My grin widens when I meet her fiery gaze.

I’m sure I’m probably showing all my teeth at this point.

“Perhaps we need to reconsider where we keep you. Isn’t that right, firecracker? ”

To my ecstatic ness, Zoey doesn’t back down. She lifts her chin and glares at me with all the defiance she can muster. My dick strains against my zipper. “You’re all the same. You think you can control people, but you can’t. Play the little game you want to play. You’ll never control me.”

Her words are sharp, but I see the exhaustion in her eyes. She’s holding on by a thread, and yet, she burns brighter than the damn sun.

“Oh, I don’t want to control you.” I take another step closer.

Then another. Until her back is against the stone wall and she’s forced to crane her neck to look up at me.

Lola’s barks drift into the background. The other captives go wild at our proximity.

Wilkes whines about his stupid broken wrist as though I’m supposed to care.

“That would be boring. What I really want is to see what makes you burn.”

Zoey’s jaw clenches. “You’re not going to break me. No matter how hard you try.”

Her defiance is delicious. Intoxicating. I take another step forward until my body is flush against hers and reach up to rest my forearms on the cold stone above her head, sealing us into this little bubble of privacy. “Good. Otherwise, that would take the fun out of it.”

“Are you going to teach her a lesson or what?” Wilkes spits onto the floor before scrambling to his feet, still cradling his wrist.

I shoot him a glare so potent that he hunches his back to make himself smaller. My tone is sharp when I speak. “Clean that up.”

Confused, he glances down at the spit puddle. “I don’t have a rag.”

“Then use your shirt, or I’ll use your face.”

His face turns red with anger, but he takes off his shirt and grumbles the entire time he wipes up his spit from the floor. The amount of times these guys have to clean up their own messes out of this cell is getting ridiculous.

“Now get out.”

Wilkes hesitates and glares at Zoey one last time, but I shift my body and block her from his view. When he doesn’t move, Damon’s hand shoots out and wraps around Wilkes’ neck, pulling him against the bars so hard his head bounces off the metal. “Step away from her or I snap his neck.”

Wilkes’ eyes widen, but all I do is grin. “Do it.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” When no one speaks or moves, I decide to take this little game to the next level. I’m so glad I came in here today. After straightening my spine, I drop a hand into Zoey’s beautiful golden blonde hair. I lift the strands and bury my face in them before taking a large whiff. “Glorious.”

“Step away,” Damon repeats.

“Do what you need to. I’m not moving.”

Lola is going wild at this point. I should have brought her in here with me. That would have really livened things up.

Wilkes whimpers. “Boss?— ”

The word ends on a gurgle when Damon tightens his grip. Losing Wilkes would make no difference to me, but then I would need to go fetch someone else to come in and clean up his body, and the cycle would only continue.

“Don’t bother me when I’m busy, Wilkes.” I press my lips to Zoey’s forehead. “Have they denied you the basics, such as a shower?”

“Yes,” she squeaks out with hesitation.

“We’ll change that.” I pull back so I can lift her chin with my finger to make her look up at me.

Confusion swirls in her eyes, the same sort of confusion that she’s caused me ever since her arrival.

Her lips straighten into a thin line in defiance, which only makes my dick even harder.

I could probably break these bars with it at this point.

There’s a loud smack and I look behind me to see Damon had thrown Wilkes clear across the cell, but that’s not what causes me to grin.

Damon brandishes a knife between his fingers, and when it sails through the air, I tug Zoey tight against my body and step to the side.

The knife bounces off the wall and onto the floor.

Damon roars, but I only chuckle. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a very, very long time.

Here.” I reach down and grab the knife before tucking it into Zoey’s bra like the first one was.

“Keep this. I want to hear about what chaos this causes next. But first, come with me.”

The cell door opens, and Wilkes slinks out of it. When he tries to pick up Lola, she snaps, and her sharp little teeth graze his fingers. He yanks his hand back with a curse.

“Wilkes, my sorry excuse for a man, this just isn’t your day.” Then my tone turns razor sharp. “Leave her and get out. For good. Never step another foot in here again.”

He slinks off into the dark corridor and I slide my gaze to Zoey, who’s watching the dog. “Go on, pick her up.”

As if summoned, the little ball of energy bounds into the cell and right into Zoey’s waiting arms.

“Guess she’ll be coming with us, then,” I say. “Now follow me.”