Page 60 of Pulling Strings

Fighting our way out of the prison, perhaps? Or maybe he’d disguise himself as a guard and walk me out with no questions asked.

Rather than answer, he posed a question of his own. “Did you speak with Ripley Vaughn?”

I nodded. “He’s in. But I’m not sure it’s a great idea… You think we can trust him?”

“Not in the slightest.” Grimm smirked. “But who needs trust when you have leverage?”

My brow furrowed. “You mean the zombie girl?”

“You heard about that?”

I nodded again, then sent another probing thought into the handcuff lock. It gave way with a click, freeing one wrist. I moved on to the next.

“Then you shouldn’t worry,” Grimm said. “I’ve known Ripley for decades. I’m more than capable of keeping him in line.”

It didn’t sound that way to me. Ripley’s betrayal and attempted sabotage of the gang was as far out of line as someone could get. I didn’t want to linger and debate it, though. The second handcuff hinged open, letting the shackles clatter against the edge of the table. I shoved back and stretched my arms.

Grimm watched me with growing satisfaction on his face. “That’s my boy. How’s it feel?”

“Fucking orgasmic.” I leaned back in the chair and picked up my feet to hook my heels on the edge of the seat. Once the leg irons were gone, I would be practically unfettered.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked. “I’m ready to get out of here.”

His head bobbed. “I’m sure you are. And you will. But breaking out of prison would only exacerbate things. You’re already a wanted man, already on the run from the Capitol…”

As soon as he said “but,” I stopped cold. Every word spoken after that felt like building toward a letdown.

Suspicion must have shown on my face because Grimm clarified, “We’re going to save you, Fitch, but it may look different than what you’ve envisioned.”

“What does that mean?”

And why weren’t we running already? This room was private, without cameras or windows through which someone could peek, but guards milled the hall outside and could enter at any moment. Pressed as I felt, Grimm was annoyingly composed.

“Holland Lyle,” he said. “What did you think of her offer?”

The leg cuffs fell away, coiling on the floor.

“I said I’m not interested,” I repeated for what must have been the third time. “Grimm, I want out of thisplace like yesterday. What are we waiting for?” Desperation edged into my voice as I stood.

Grimm raised his hand. “I need you to trust me.”

“Who needs trust when you have leverage?”

But I didn’t have any leverage, so I asked, “What’s your plan?”

“The investigator was more honest than she meant to be. And she seems to have a soft spot for you.”

I slipped the visitor pass into my breast pocket and moved on to the lock on the belly chain. “I don’t see what that has to do with—”

“I want you to accept her offer,” Grimm said.

My head snapped up, pinning him with incredulity. “Life in prison?”

I could make a run for it. Kill anyone who got in the way, not stop until I was safely beyond the walls of this place. Grimm would be pissed, but his anger was rarely enough to deter me.

“The other offer,” he replied.

“What other offer?”

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