Page 115 of Dual
“Of course it does,” I mutter automatically, but my mind is already shifting gears. She has a plan. Good. Wait, is that good? She’s as nuts as I am. “This is really working out great for both of us. Just stellar planning all around. I love being tied up in a murder basement with you, of all people. Best day ever.”
She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she takes a deep breath. “Okay. This is gonna suck.”
Something in her tone raises every red flag in my system. “What?” I demand.
“I’m dislocating my thumb.”
Holy shit. This girl has bigger balls than half the men I’ve worked with. “The fuck you are!”
“Too late!” she grunts, and I hear the sickening pop of bone moving where it shouldn’t, followed by her strained voice. “Oh, motherfucker?—”
My stomach lurches. “Oh my god, I think I’m gonna puke,” I gag, not entirely faking it. “What the fuck, Moira?!”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you have a better idea?” she hisses through what must be excruciating pain. “Or do you just wanna keep lying here like a useless sack of shit?”
“You’re insane,” I say, but there’s a note of admiration I can’t quite hide.
“That’s rich coming from you, Splitzy. And look, I’m the only one escaping.”
I hear her working her hand through the zip tie, the soft grunts of effort, the sharp exhale of pain. Then—snap.
She’s free.
Relief washes through me. This is perfect. Better than I could have planned. If she can get out, she can get help. She can disappear before Pavel or his boss—whoever the fuck that is—can use her to get to Bane. To get to me and Domhnall. She can break it off with the priest, vanish, and live.
Meanwhile, I can stay. I can face Pavel, play his game,and buy her time to run. I can protect Domhnall by keeping these animals focused on me.
I hear the rustle of fabric as she removes her hood, then her footsteps as she moves toward me.
“I hate you,” I say, but with less heat than before. “I hate everything about you. I hope you get tetanus from this floor.”
“Noted,” she says, and I feel her hands on my zip ties.
Panic flares through me. “No,” I say sharply. “Moira, no. You can’t free me. If I go with you, they’ll think I helped you escape. I’m fucked if that happens.” This isn’t a lie. If Pavel thinks I helped Moira escape, he’ll make sure Domhnall pays the price. “You can still stop all this. You need to run to that priest, break it off, and then disappear. If I stay, I can make sure Domhnall stays safe. I won’t do anything that puts him in danger.”
I can feel her hesitation. “Mads?—”
“No.” I make my voice as hard as steel. “I mean it. You know me. You know I’m not bluffing. Domhnall’s everything to me, and I’ll play their game if it keeps him alive. But you have to go. Just break up with the priest, for fuck’s sake! It’s the only way any of us makes it out of this alive.”
She hesitates, and I wonder if she’s going to argue. “This is stupid,” she finally says.
“Oh yeah? Well, so is love, but here we fucking are,” I reply, surprised by how raw my voice sounds. “Now get the hell out of here before they catch you, or I swear I’ll start screaming.”
Footsteps echo in the hallway. Fuck. We’re out of time.
“You better not die,” she whispers fiercely, “Because Domhnall will so fucking kill me if you die.”
A smile tugs at my lips despite everything. “I’ve got more lives than a cat,” I whisper back, meaning it. I’ve survived worse than this. Far worse. “Now get the fuck out of here!”
She hesitates—just for a second—and then she’s gone, her footsteps fading down what must be some auxiliary corridor or service passage.
I slip the hood back on, sitting exactly as they left me, zip ties still tight on my wrists. The relief I feel knowing Moira’s free is almost dizzying. One less complication. One less innocent caught in the crossfire of my fucked-up life.
The door bangs open, heavy footsteps crossing the floor.
“Where is she?” Pavel’s voice is sharp, dangerous.
I lift my head, feigning confusion. “Wha—who?”
