Page 31 of Whispers of the Dead

“Like you said. Maybe my soul isn’t as dark as I’d thought.” I open my eyes to watch her in time to see her breath hitch.

She licks her lips and reaches her other hand through the bars to continue the tour on her own. I stand still and let her ravish me. “Nice cheekbones and a strong jawline. You feel beautiful.”

I tip my head down to press my lips against her palm in a gentle kiss. “Not as beautiful as you.”

“Let me be the judge of that when I can finally see you.”

My lips freeze against her palm. I’ve fallen hard for this woman in such a short amount of time, and she can’t even see me. What am I doing?

Her hands swipe along my shoulders, my chest, and then my abdomen. “I’m shocked you’re in such great shape for the crap they feed you. Or maybe I’m the only one getting served slop.”

When she reaches the waistband of my jeans, she pauses and looks me right in the eye now that she knows where my face is. I grasp the bars with both hands and lean forward into her touch. “Exactly how well are we going to get to know each other, blondie?”

Her cheeks turn beat red, and I smile. What a pretty color on her.

I drag my thumb along her lower lip. “I’ll be honest with you, blondie. You’re all I’ve thought about since they brought you in here, but I know you’ve got a whole lifeoutside these bars. I’ll be whatever you need me to be while we’re here in the dark, but once these bars are gone, you might not like what you see.”

She holds my gaze, unshaken. “Why is that?”

I run my tongue along my bottom lip while I think over my words. “You’re too good for me.”

“Don’t you think I should be the one to make that decision?”

I pull my hand back, and hers falls from my hips in response. “Wait and see if I disappoint you first.”

“We’re going to have to work on your self-esteem, Damon. You’re ridiculous. I already trust you more than I trust most people, and that’s really saying a lot. Besides…” she reaches into her shirt and pulls out a small knife. My mouth twitches into a smile. “I didn’t come back empty-handed.”

I stare at the knife, caught somewhere between exasperation and admiration. “Of course you didn’t.” I shake my head. A low chuckle escapes me. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here I am.” Her smile widens despite the exhaustion etched into her features. “We’re getting out of here.”

For the first time in a long time…I believe it.

10

ZOEY

The knife feels awkward in my grip. Its handle is cold and feels slick against my sweaty fingers. My knees ache from crouching on the hard concrete, but I don’t stop. There’s no time for a break.

My pulse pounds in my ears. I twist the tip of the knife in the lock, hoping, praying, for even the faintest click.

Nothing. Only the scrape of metal against metal. I grind my teeth together and press harder. I angle the blade like I’ve seen people do in movies, but the lock still doesn’t budge.

“Come on,” I whisper, willing it to work.

My hands tremble as I try again and again, but the only result is my increasing frustration from fumbling with the mechanism. The knife is too thick, dull, and blunt for this. It’s no use.

A low voice drifts through the darkness. “Pass it over here, golden girl. Let me try.”

I shake my head at Benji and grip the handle tighter. “A little more. I think I’m close.”

The blade slips from my fingers and clatters to the concrete.

“Shit.”

The knife skitters out of reach before landing in the corridor between cells. I press myself against the bars and stretch my arm as far as it will go in my desperation to reach the knife. My fingertips barely graze the handle before the sound of footsteps echoes down the corridor. The blood drains from my face.

“They’re coming,” Benji hisses out.

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