Page 49 of Whispers of the Dead

“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.”

18

ZOEY

The bathroom smells like cheap soap and stale water, but I don’t care. I’m finally clean for the first time in…however long it’s been.

I watch the suds swirl down the drain, streaked with grime, blood, and God knows what else. They disappear like ghosts of everything I’ve endured.

The thin white tank top and short blue shorts I pull back on feel strange against my freshly scrubbed skin, as if I’ve stepped into someone else’s body. One that isn’t covered in dirt, sweat, and dried blood. Then I pause and pull the front of my shirt to my nose. It’s clean. Did he have it cleaned while I was in the shower?

My damp hair clings to my neck, and the faintest hint of soap lingers in the air. An unfamiliar luxury in this hellhole. The real comfort, however, comes from the weight pressing against my ribs.

The knife that’s tucked into my bra presses cold against my skin. My fingers brush against it from the outside of my shirt, and I take a deep breath to steady myself. This isn’t over. I may be out of the cell, but I still have to get the othersout of there, too. Then we can all get the fuck out of this place.

I crack the bathroom door open and then freeze when voices drift through the connected bedroom.

“She’s mine, Avery.” Eugene’s voice is a furious snarl, the kind that sends an icy shiver racing down my spine. “You don’t get to take her out of her cell whenever you feel like it.”

Avery’s response is calm. That practiced, infuriating, bored tone that he’s perfected. “Relax, Eugene. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Eugene’s boots scuff against the floor. He’s pacing. Frustrated.

Good.

“I don’t care if I’m embarrassing myself. You’ve overstepped. You let Wilkes get hurt because of her, at your instigation, no less, and now you’re parading her around like some kind of prize. She belongs to me.”

My stomach twists and I clench my fists. I flinch when the tip of the knife knicks my skin and I readjust it in my bra. Eugene’s words have possessiveness dripping from every syllable. Then there’s a chuckle and my toes curl. I’m horrified for a moment before I realize it came from Avery. I’m startled at my body’s response to him, and a little disappointed. My body betrays me, reacting to the sound like a live wire meeting water. I hate that reaction, and I hate him. Apparently, my body hasn’t gotten the memo.

“Belongs to you?” Avery’s tone sharpens. His amusement is laced with something dangerous. “She doesn’t belong to anyone, Eugene. Least of all you.”

There’s a pause, and I Eugene bristling, with his face red and his fists clenched until his knuckles go white. Then his voice cuts through, still laced with fury. “What’s your endgame, Avery? Why are you even doing this?”

“My endgame?” Avery laughs, but it’s different this time.Low. Dark. Amused. “I’m having fun, Eugene. Something you clearly haven’t figured out how to do.” A beat of silence. Then, “Now get the fuck out of my sight before I lose my patience.”

“You work for me, Avery. Don’t you forget that.”

Boots stomp away. My pulse kicks up until it’s hammering against my ribs. Eugene is gone, for now. I should be relieved, but then Avery’s next words stop me cold before I can even shut the door. “You can come out now, Zoey.”

I grip the doorframe. My breath turns shallow as I will my heartbeat to slow down to a more manageable rhythm.

There’s no point in hiding. I hate that I don’t have a choice, that I’m always at the beck and call of someone else. I push open the door and step into the large bedroom. The floor is cold beneath my bare feet. When I get free, I’ll need to steal someone’s boots, like they stole mine.

Avery stands in the center of the large room. His hands rest in his pockets while he watches me, setting my core ablaze. His faint smile does things to my body that I really don’t want to acknowledge right now.

“Enjoy the show?” he asks, tilting his head.

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