Page 34

ZOEY

E ugene’s grip is unforgiving when he drags me down the hallway, his pace quick and deliberate. My heart pounds against my ribs and my mind races with everything that’s led to this moment. Damon on the rooftop, the deal I made, the guys still locked away in their cells.

The room I’m shoved into looks like a war zone disguised as an office.

The mismatched furniture is an odd assortment of random tables, chairs, desks, and bookcases, all shoed into corners like they don’t belong there.

Which, judging by the state of the place, I doubt they do.

Some are broken, and some are leaning precariously, ready to collapse at the faintest gust of wind.

Papers, trinkets, and random junk scatter everywhere, creating a mess so chaotic that it makes my skin crawl. My nose wrinkles at the disarray, but I bite back my comments.

Eugene releases my wrist and turns his attention to a cluttered desk, where he rifles through drawers.

“I’m still working on fixing up the room,” he says, his voice casual, as if we’re having some normal conversation rather than signing my life away.

He doesn’t look at me, only keeps searching.

“Not this room, of course, but the room you’ll be in.

Transforming it, you know. From my room to our room. ”

A cold shudder runs through me, but I force myself not to react. He wants a reaction. He wants me to flinch, to show fear, to feel helpless.

While that’s all I feel, I still won’t give it to him. Instead, I cross my arms and keep my voice steady, so I don’t let on how on edge I am. “I don’t care about your room. What about the guys? When are you letting them out?”

Eugene pauses long enough for my nerves to fire. He glances at me over his shoulder with an unreadable expression. “Yeah…” he draws the word out slowly. “I’m still working on that.”

I take a step forward, feeling emboldened now in my fight to help them. My hands clench into fists by my sides. “We had a deal.”

“I’ll honor it.” He waves a dismissive hand in the air before turning back to his search. He pulls out another drawer and flips through loose papers and old supplies. “I’ll let them out of their cells, sure, but I’m not setting them free.”

“You said?—”

“I said I would let them out of their cells.” His tone hardens, and he finally looks at me again.

His lips curve into a mocking smirk. “Our deal didn’t include what happens after, and we both know they’ll come after me if I set them free.

I need to figure out how to do this, but it will be soon enough, don’t you worry.

You’ll never have to go back to that horrible room, after all, and that’s what matters, right? ”

The nonchalance in his voice makes my blood boil. “Well, that’s not good enough.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he slams another drawer shut with growing frustration.

“Where the hell are those keys?” he mutters.

“I told Wilkes to put them back in here. They never put things back right. That’s why no one can ever find anything in all this shit.

” He swipes his arms across books, papers, a computer, and clears off a desk, sending everything scattering to the floor.

My pulse jumps, and I glance around the mess of a room, scanning for anything useful. My eyes catch a glint of metal. A ring of keys half-hidden beneath a stack of old, dusty magazines on a low bookcase near the door.

Eugene swears under his breath while still digging through the mess, oblivious to me. It’s now or never.

I step toward the bookcase as quietly as I can. The room creaks with every little shift, but Eugene doesn’t turn around. He’s too focused on his search, muttering curses and yanking open another drawer.

My fingers brush against the cool metal of the keys, and I force myself to slow my pace and not rush. I curl my fingers around the keyring, gripping them tight.

Eugene’s movements grow more erratic, his agitation bleeding into the air. “Someone must’ve moved them.”

He throws his fist into the wall and I jump back when chunks of plaster fly all around him. He mumbles something about needing to fix that now, too, then pulls his fist free and continues his search.

It’s become clear that I can’t stay in here any longer. Then, without further hesitation, I slip through the door.

The second I step into the hallway, I pick up my pace. I don’t look back. Don’t hesitate. Just go.

Every step feels too loud. Every breath too sharp. I glance over my shoulder every few seconds, expecting him to come barreling after me, but there’s nothing. No footsteps. No shouts. He’s still in that mess of an office, completely unaware that his power over me just slipped through his fingers.

The second I reach the cell block, my breath catches.

The cold metal bars loom ahead, but Damon’s cell is empty.

I don’t even need to see into the shadows to know he’s not there.

We left him behind on the roof. I only hope he’s hanging in there.

I’ll let the guys free and then we’ll come and find him.

“Zoey, is that you?” Benji’s voice snaps me out of it and I turn toward the sound, stepping into the dim patch of light from the skylight in my cell.

My fingers shake when I hold up the keys for him to see, and my lips curve into a grin. “Let’s get you guys out of here.”

The door to the cell block slams shut with a sound like a gunshot, and I jump and spin around. My heart pounds with what happened the last time I heard that exact sound. He’s come back.

Eugene strides in, his face twisted with barely contained fury, and before I can react, his hand clamps around my wrist like a steel vise. His grip is too tight, too controlling, too much.

With his other hand, he snatches the key ring from my fingers and holds it up into the dim light. A deep frown creases his face when he studies it. “Seems like you only grabbed the keys to your own cell.”

“The keys weren’t all together?” I ask while trying to pry his fingers off my wrist, but his grip only tightens.

He lets out a low chuckle and shakes his head like he’s talking to a child. “I think you’ve already proven why the keys are kept separate.”

Then, without warning, he unlocks my cell and shoves me inside. I stumble and catch myself against the far wall, my heart slamming against my ribcage like my palm slams against the cold, familiar stone. I turn back to look at him with fire in my veins.

“You’ll stay here for now, since you’ve shown you can’t be trusted to honor your side of our deal.” His lips curl into something twisted, a mockery of a smirk. “Besides, I need to finish preparing things upstairs. Once it’s ready, I’ll come back for you.”

Upstairs. The room. Our room. A cold shudder runs down my spine.

His gaze sweeps over the contents of my cell, and his frown deepens. Disgust sets a deep frown on his face. His eyes take in the queen-sized bed, the soft blankets, and the food neatly placed along the wall. His face morphs into something gruesome. “What the hell is this?”

I don’t answer, not that I even need to.

His jaw tightens, and his eyes flick between the mattress, the pillows, the boxes of food, and the bottles of water. “This wasn’t me.”

“No, of course not, because you don’t know how to take care of your prisoners,” Cole says in a deathly voice that surprises us all. “You want her to worship you, but you can’t even feed her.”

Eugene takes out his taser and I run to the front bars of my cell. “Wait, you can’t. Remember our deal? You can’t hurt them anymore.”

With his back still turned to me, he turns his head to the side and I see the smirk. “You also remember my part of the deal?”

“What’s all this talk about a deal?” Benji asks.

Eugene ignores him, but he hooks the taser back onto his belt and looks at my cell with fury in his eyes again. “Avery. Figures he’d pull a stunt like this.”

His fingers twitch like he’s itching to tear the bed apart with his own bare hands.

For a moment, I think he might, but then he steps back with a sharp exhale. “No matter. I’ll deal with him later. For now, I need to get things ready for your arrival. ”

The moment the words leave his mouth, a fury-filled snarl erupts from Cole’s cell.

“You’re not taking her anywhere,” Benji says matter-of-factly.

Cole shifts near the bars. “If you so much as touch her?—”

Eugene laughs. It’s a cold, cutting sound. “Spare me the theatrics. This was her decision. She made her choice. In fact, I don’t need to explain myself to the likes of you.”

“You didn’t give me a choice.”

He turns his gaze back to me and his smirk twists into something cruel, something victorious. “And yet, you still chose me.”

A dark chuckle echoes from the shadows. “Yeah. If by ‘choose’ you mean she was coerced at knifepoint.”

I recognize the voice as one of the dregs from the rooftop, but I was so focused on Damon that I can’t tell which one it is.

Eugene’s head snaps toward the dreg so fast, I swear I hear his neck crack. His eyes burn with fury, and it’s strange to see that look directed at someone other than me. “Shut it, or I’ll do it for you.”

Then he steps toward me and reaches his hand through the bars as if to brush my cheek. I flinch back before I can stop myself, and his expression shifts.

For a moment, there’s something almost like hurt in his eyes, but then it’s quickly replaced by an icy anger. “That reaction will change. Sooner than you think.”

I swallow hard, my mouth too dry to give a response. I’m pretty sure that reaction will never change.

Eugene finally steps back and his eyes linger on me for a beat too long before turning toward the corridor with a promise, “I’ll be back.”

Then the door slams shut behind him and I let out a shaky exhale, my knees threatening to give out .

“What the hell happened out there?” Benji demands, his voice cutting through the thick silence.