I meet his gaze at last, cold and steady, letting him see that I’m not the scared girl he remembers. He shifts under my stare; the smirk slipping a little.
I say nothing, choosing to let him squirm… Let him realize the power is mine now..
Blake licks his split lip, his voice growing smaller. “Say something, Sawyer. Don’t just stand there. I knowyou’re pissed at them. At me. At all of this.”
I walk a slow circle around the chair, never taking my eyes off him. Every chain, every bruise, every shiver is catalogued. My hands tremble, but I make no move to hide them.
“I told y’all,” Blake mutters again, quieter this time, almost pleading. “She wouldn’t want this.”
He’s wrong.
I finish my slow circle, the sound of my bare feet echoing on the concrete floor. Every step draws Blake’s attention, his gaze flickering between bravado and desperation. I stop right in front of him, just outside the reach of his chains.
He looks up, defiant. Blood crusts one nostril, his eyes ringed with exhaustion. “You don’t want this, Sawyer,” he sneers, voice thick with spite and old habits. “You can’t possibly. They’re fucked, you know that? You think anyone’s gonna let them get away with this? With keeping me chained up like a fucking animal? You’re not one of them, Sawyer. You’re not like them.”
Something inside me snaps.
Without warning, I pull my fist back and drive it hard into his nose and a sharp, satisfying crack splits the silence. Blake’s head snaps back, blood spurting instantly, his howl muffled by my heavy breathing.
He recoils, eyes wide and stunned, one hand yanking helplessly against the chain.
My knuckles sting, but I don’t flinch. I let the pain ground me. Let it remind me I’m here, I’m safe, and that I choose what happens next.
“Wrong. I’m exactly where I belong.” I tell him.
Behind me, Riot lets out a slow, appreciative whistle.
Blake coughs, blood pouring from his nose. He glares up at me, lip curling. “You think that makes you tough?” His voice is nasal, thick with pain and humiliation. “You think they’re gonna protect you? They don’t give a shit about you, Sawyer.”
I lean in closer, ice in my veins. “You’re going to answer my questions, Blake. All of them. One at a time.”
He spits blood onto floor, refusing to look at me. “Why should I? You got what you wanted. You only ever wanted the bad boys. That’s what you like.”
“You’re going to tell me why, Blake. Why did you take me?”
He laughs, a broken, bitter sound. “Not until you admit that you’re mine, that you liked it. Admit you fucking came for me. Tell them that, and I’ll give you what you want.”
Something in me goes cold, the old shame rearing up, but not for long. Because I feel Riot’s hand settle on my back. Jasper’s shadow looms just behind me, silent and waiting.
Riot steps forward, voice low and deadly. “You want to play hardball, Blake?”
Jasper crouches down, getting level with Blake, his stare absolute ice. “You answer her questions, or you answer to us.”
Blake laughs again, but there’s a tremor in it. He tries to hold my gaze, but I see it—the fear, the desperation. “She wants to know the truth?” he says, voice cracking as Jasper produces a small, wicked-looking blade from his back pocket. “I’ll tell her, after she says it. You came for me, didn’t you? Didn’t you?!”
Riot ’s hand snaps out, fingers digging into Blake’s jaw. “Wrong answer.”
Jasper’s voice is dark silk. “This is your last chance, Blake. Answer her questions or we’ll start ripping out your goddamn fingernails and see if that jogs your memory.”
Blake goes pale, breath catching.
My voice is steel, cutting through the tension. “Why? Why did you do it?”
RIOT
Blake’s mouth is still running, even with blood dripping down his face. “I said I’m not saying a damn thing until she admits it. You heard me, Sawyer. All you have to do is admit that you’re little fucked up self came for me.”
I don’t give him the chance to spit out another word. I reach into my pocket, fingers closing around the cold steel of the pliers I grabbed before we came down.
