Page 68 of Whispers of the Dead

There’s a pause, and no one speaks.

“Either I agreed to go with him, and you all would be set free from your cells, or…” my voice catches.

“Or what?” Benji pushes.

I take a shuddering breath and dig my fingernails into my palms. “They dangled Damon over the edge of the roof, with dozens of rotters waiting below. If I rejected Eugene again, then I would have to watch you all…”

“Watch us all what? Fuck, you’re shaking. Come over here.”

I do as he says, and walk over to him on steady feet. Benji’s arms appear around the bars and wrap around me, pulling me close. I wish I could fully lean into him without these damn bars in the way, but this is better than nothing.

“Watch as they threw all three of you over that edge, one by one,” I finish.

Cole’s voice comes out rough. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what? Saved your lives? You weren’t there. There wasn’t any other way.”

“Damon’s strong. He would have figured it out. Now you’ve damned yourself,” Cole says.

“There wasn’t another way.” My voice rises with disbelief. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see…I couldn’t lose you. Any of you.”

His breath is warm against my ear, but his voice is tight with rage. “It’s all a game to him. Eugene doesn’t have anhonest bone in his body. Whatever he promised you, there’s a catch. There’s always a catch.”

“I had to do something. I had to try. You don’t belong here. None of you do.”

There’s a heavy pause, then Benji’s voice drops to something softer, heavier, more morose. “I do.”

I pull back enough to stare into the shadows and make out the faint outline of his body. “What?”

He lifts his head, and even though I can’t see his expression, I can feel his gaze on me. “You shouldn’t risk yourself for me, Zoey.” His thumb brushes along the bare skin of my shoulder where my jacket has fallen. “You shouldn’t even be here. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be.”

“What are you talking about?”

His thumb moves in slow circles against my shoulder, soothing yet torturous, because I’m terrified of what he might say next. Then his words gut me. “I’m the reason you were captured.”

“What are you talking about?”

No. No, that’s not possible. He’s been locked up here for too long. I never met him before I was tossed into this hellhole. He has nothing to do with Eugene’s obsession with me. Right?

His hand stills, and when he speaks again, his tone is raw, heavy, and full of regret. “I could have stopped Nathan. Hell, I tried to, but I didn’t. Damon blames himself, but it was me who got us here.”

Nathan.

My breath catches in my throat, and I shift to face Benji fully. My hand slides off his arm while I process what he said. “Nathan?” I choke out the name. “You knew him?”

His nod is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. “We didn’t know what he was when we got here. Damon, Cole, and I, we were passing through is all. New to the area, low onsupplies, trying to stay out of trouble. We were exhausted. We thought maybe we’d found somewhere safe.”

So many questions fill my head, but I can’t speak.

Benji’s exhale is laced with something bitter, something broke. “We weren’t dregs, Zoey. Not like Nathan and his people. We thought we’d found a group willing to share resources, maybe even to survive together.” A pause. “We were wrong.”

He shifts and pulls me closer, like he knows I need the comfort but won’t ask for it. Not from him right now.

Still, I don’t speak, because what is there to say?

“We were there when a woman and some guys showed up looking for insulin.”

I freeze. My pulse pounds in my ears. “Emily,” I whisper.

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