Page 47 of Enemy of the State

“Don’t tell me you missed me,” I chime, as Honey Eyes reappears before my cell. He’s long since collected my dinner tray, so I’m surprised to see him again.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he replies, his voice silky smooth. I’ll never pass up a change in venue, and though I’m far used to the shitty lighting and rancid stench of this cell, I still jump at every chance to escape, even for a few hours. Fuck, I’ll be glad when I never see this hellhole again. I have to tell myself that there will be anafterto all of this. Without that, my spirit is crushed entirely, and Digs might not be there to pull me out next time.

Honey Eyes unlocks my cell, and I step into the hallway. While he walks at my back, I don’t see any of the other guards who are usually around when I’m being escorted somewhere, which has my hackles rising, my mind slipping into high alert.

I’m made to stop in front of the usual torture room and resist the shiver that threatens to make its way to my pussy as memories of the last few sessions in here flood my mind.Fuck, I hope there’s another one waiting for me.

I don’t have time to explore that depravity as the door swings open to reveal a stoic looking Digs sitting at the metal table in the middle of the room. Honey Eyes presses a hand to my back, encouraging me to walk inside. The sound of the door shutting ricochets ominously through the room as Honey Eyes leads me to the chair opposite his friend and my shackles are attached to the bolts in the floor. Silence fills the room as Honey Eyes takes up residence against the wall at Digs’s back, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“We need to talk,” Digs explains opposite me, his forearms resting on the table.

Nothing good begins with that statement.

My gaze slides to the camera blinking in the corner of the room, and Honey Eyes follows my line of sight. A moment later, he drags a chair over, stands on it, and rips it straight from the wall.

IswearI hear him mutter something about it not working anyway as he stalks back out of the room like a proper assistant, leaving me alone with Digs, and shutting the door behind him.

Something about this meeting feels rather odd and my body becomes primed for a fight, apprehension needling me. I scan the rest of the room, unable to find anything else out of place, but I keep my guard up higher than usual.What in hell’s paradise is happening here?

“Lou,” Digs starts over, taking a deep breath. I study his eyes and see something new and unfamiliar lurking within the silver of his gaze. He seems unsettled, his shoulders stiff and his posture rigid, and I realize it’s body language I’ve never seen from him.

“I need you to answer my questions.”

I lean back in my seat, attempting to get comfortable as I exhale noisily. Relief slides through my muscles, relaxing me marginally at the realization that this is nothing more than another attempt to glean information from me.

The lilt to my British accent is thick as I state plainly, “Digs, we’ve been through this before, but in case the message has been unclear, allow me to be direct: I have nothing to say to you.”

“That’s just it. You don’t have anything to say to me because you didn’t do what you’ve been accused of. You don’t say anything becauseyou don’t know.”

Blimey!I’ll admit that I didn’t see that one coming, and I don’t care for being blindsided. I didn’t anticipate this tosser working any of that out either, and Mercer’s going to be put the fuck out when he discovers that. Keeping my face completely neutral, I turn into a bloodhound, sniffing out what he thinks he knows.

“Is that the conclusion you reach every time a prisoner doesn’t tell you what you want?”

“Drop the act, Lou. Neither of us have the time. Listen to me when I say that youneedto tell me what you know.”

Neither of us have the time.What the fuck does that mean? Is that simply a turn of phrase or the foreshadowing of something far more ominous?

Instead of asking that, I inquire casually, “And why should I trust you? The man whotorturedme for information?”

He has the audacity to lookguiltyas my words appear to pierce him. I’m surprised that he doesn’t clutch his invisible wound. After all, he does have a flare for the dramatics.

I’d be lying if I said that his regretful expression didn’t have my stomach twisting a bit, though. Anguish floods his blue-grey eyes, but I refuse to let that affect me more than it already has; instead, I reinforce the walls around my heart and head.

“I don’t blame you for not trusting me, and I’m not sure there’sanything I can say to change that, but I want to try. What if we exchange a little honesty?”

Remaining silent, I wait for him to continue. I’ll be damned if I slice open my vein first. If my chains would allow me to cross my arms over my chest, I would, if only to hide the wariness floating down my skin like fog creeping into a forest.

“I know you didn’t attempt to blow up the Federal Reserve. You didn’t kidnap one of the members of the Board of Governors or attempt to kidnap two more. You didn’t destroy or set fire to any buildings.Maybeyou hacked into the Fed’s system and did some spying—I’m not positive there. The only thing Iamsure about is that murder is no problem for you, so that part is probably accurate.”

Leaning forward, I summon a glimpse of my cunning, vicious, sanguinary personality to the surface of my expression. He’s right—murderisn’ta problem for me. In fact, I bloody like it. I steal lives so often that I don’t even really think about it other than to reflect on the pleasant memories associated with some of my more brilliant moments.

“You don’t know me, Digs. You don’t knowwhatI’m capable of.”

He leans closer, his eyes drilling into mine so intently that I swear he can read my mind and decipher the etchings on my heart. He doesn’t know me, though, and if he did, he wouldn’t like what he saw, could he?

He’s right about everything except for the arson. I’ve set buildings, and people, on fire before, but I wasn’t responsible for this attack on the Fed. I took no part in that except for some mild hacking to discover the building’s plans and security protocol for Mercer. I was stupid not to find out what the hell Mercer had gotten himself wrapped up in, but it’s not like we had time to sit down for tea and discuss his plans in depth. Besides, my brother is the one person I’ve never questioned before, although I’m regretting not pursuing that line of questioning.

I didn’t even know about the kidnapping until Digs mentioned it originally, and I didn’t learn who was snatched until just now.The Board of Governors… Really, Mercer?

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