Page 51 of Whispers of the Dead

I take a step forward. The knife gleams in the light streaming in through the window. “I’m not afraid to use this. Your blood wouldn’t be the first I’ve spilled.”

Avery moves before I can blink. His hand shoots out to grab my wrist with a force that sends the knife clattering to the floor. Lola yelps and jumps back. Avery’s grip tightens enough to make my body still. His eyes lock onto mine.

“What do you want from me?” I squeak out.

“You really are something else.” His voice is low and almost…admiring. “No wonder they’re so protective of you.”

“They…” My brain becomes foggy.

He pushes me back and spins me around until my front presses against the window. Outside is freedom. The sun is bright, and all I have to do is open the hatch.

His hand covers mine, stopping the motion. His mouth rests close to my ear, and his breath warms my neck. “I could bring you out into the sunlight, but you choose to go back into the darkness with strangers you can’t even see.”

“I trust them.”

A door opens and Eugene steps inside. Wilkes is close behind and sporting a bandaged wrist. They’re deep in conversation and hardly notice us, if at all.

“You don’t trust me?” Avery pushes his hips forward until I feel his erection pressing against my ass.

“You confuse me,” I breathe out.

He bites my earlobe. When I don’t cry out, he licks away the sting and runs his tongue along the shell of my ear. “I’ve come across many people, but no one quite like you, firecracker. You’re right not to trust me. Nobody should. I’monly out for my best interest. To both of our surprise, that happens to be you.”

His chest presses against my back until my breasts are shoved up against the window. One hand slides around my waist until his fingers splay across my stomach. My breath hitches.

His breath is hot against my cheek. “You don’t seem to be at all bothered to be half-naked and sandwiched between me and the window. For some reason, I don’t think you’ll take this well if I was Eugene.”

“Like I said.” I swallow hard, but the lump is still painful in my throat. “You confuse me.”

His fingertips dip into my waistband, but he doesn’t go any further. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. All you have to do is tell me to stop.” He presses his lips against the side of my neck, which sends a shiver through my body. “Do you want me to stop, firecracker?”

My mind whirls in its fight with my body. I want him to stop. It’ll be so much easier if he did, but I also want him to continue. My body aches for the touch. I open my mouth, but no words come out.

Then Eugene turns his head toward us and I’m spun around until my back slams against the solid wall with Avery in front of me, blocking me from Eugene. “I don’t want Eugene to see what’s mine. I don’t give a shit who’s trying to run this place. You’re not his.”

Lola runs up and snarls at Eugene, distracting him from us.

“I also don’t belong to you,” I say. His eyes follow the path of my tongue sweeping across my dry lips. I should have drunk some water while I was in the bathroom. It’s been a while since I’ve had any, but I refuse to ask him for anything.

He smirks down at me. “Whatever you say, Zoey. Those friends of yours in the dark can see and do whatever youwant them to, but not that piece of shit behind me. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

My brow furrows. “Why?”

“Because, firecracker. I know these guys, and they’re not worthy of you.”

“But Benjamin, Cole, and Damon are?”

He tucks my hair behind my ears. “They’re willing to kill me for you. That’s something that earns my respect, which is saying a lot. I used to like Wilkes, you know? Not nearly as much as you. Of course, that all went out the window earlier today when he thought no one else was watching.”

“You’re insane.”

He chuckles and steps away from me. Then he picks up my knife and holds it out for me to take, along with my shirt. “Back to your cell. I can’t wait to hear about what you do with this next.”

19

BENJI

Zoey sits cross-legged on the floor of her cell. Her shoulders hunch while her fingers trail around in the dust. She draws meaningless shapes. Circles, lines, little stars. She speaks in a quiet rush, trying to piece together where she went wrong in her latest failed escape attempt.

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