Chapter 30
Maintaining a constant expression of despair and impotent rage takes all my willpower. I have a plan now, one that will expose Prescott and his crime organization. Like a weed ripped from the earth, their twisted, pale roots will rot in the light of day. I want Byron and the rest to see it on my face:I’m going to be the end of all of you.
I want to smile like I know something they don’t, to be cocky as a prom king on summer vacation, but I’ll save it for when this is all over. If Reed does his part and I do mine, there will be plenty of time to gloat.
Focusing on sewing makes keeping myself in check a lot easier — it also helps me ignore the steady ache in my ass. Reed did a number on me last night. Jacqueline works at the next table, and being so close but not able to talk, lest we be overheard, is killing me. I have so much to ask her about. She’s hated me, or acted like it, for so long; I never even imagined I might eventually get to speak with her and learn her story. I’ve wondered especially about her tattoos — do the disturbing images scrawled across her body mean anything, or are they just art? Of course, there’s the one that’s haunted me the most:You did this. I’m sure that’s meant for somebody, but who?
I need to get her alone, and not just to bond — it’s the first part of the plan. With Reed taking a day off — ostensibly to acquire new tools for the dungeon — that just leaves Hunter and Edwin to guard us. They’re being extra careful, but they still need to take breaks like anyone else. So I wait for Hunter to skip out for the bathroom and for Edwin to reach the other end of the room before I risk a whisper.
“We need to talk.”
Jacqueline doesn’t turn or move. “Tonight,” she whispers back.
“Alone. Now.”
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
This gets her to turn. She looks at me like I just blew smoke in her face. I know what I’m asking.
“It’s important,” I say.
She doesn’t reply, and when I steal a glance at her she nods.
“Quinn, work faster,” Edwin growls as he walks by.
“Yes,” I mumble. I pick up the pace, waiting for Jacqueline to do her thing.
She waits about ten minutes — long enough for Hunter to get back.
“Edwin,” she says to him when he gets close. “Bathroom?”
He grunts affirmatively and starts working her cuffs. I keep sewing, hoping no one notices my foot tapping on the floor. My stomach rolls like crazy, full of nerves. I may be sitting still but I feel in motion. I can almost hear the gears turning.
When Edwin gets back, Jacqueline isn’t with him. I stay silent when he marches up to me, which is the best way for me to convincingly act surprised.
“Quinn, I need you to come with me,” he says, preparing my restraints.
“What? Why?” I bark, thrashing in fake resistance.
He leads me to the men’s room, where Jacqueline stands waiting, cuffed to a urinal pipe. She smiles at us as we enter.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Edwin grunts a laugh. “Apparently the bitch thinks Reed is going too soft on you.”
Gotta sell this.
Sneering, I lower my pants and turn to show them the dark bruises on my ass. “You think this is too soft?”
“That’s between you two,” Edwin says, freeing Jacqueline. “Bitch, not too rough, okay? You know the rules. I don’t need Byron on my case right now.”
“I’ll leave her in one piece,” says Jacqueline.
Edwin grunts again. “I’ll be right outside. Either of you tries anything, I will fuck you up.”
I shouldn’t roll my eyes, but a girl only has so much willpower. Luckily, Edwin’s already on his way out.