“Bring her.”
The cloth comes closer to my face as I twist. I throw myself back into the man holding me, my legs rising up to kick out at them, as the male that spoke to Buck and Hatter strolls up to me with a gleam in his eyes. My phone slips out of my dress and shatters against the ground.
“Red is going to enjoy this,” he murmurs, shoving the cloth over my face.
The seconds that pass feel endless. The cloth cuts off my air as I heave, breathing in the sticky sweetness as my thoughts gradually grow cloudy, murky.
My arms and legs refuse to fight any more, refuse to kick as I slump.
And everything goes dark.
9 – Buck
“You’ve really fucking done it this time.”
Hatter turns his head to glare at me. One eye is almost closed, his cheek already swelling as blood drips from the cut on his lip.
I’m not in much better shape. I poke out my tongue, gingerly testing my own lip. The taste of iron greets me.
My head is pounding, but that’s nothing to do with Knave and his band of merry assholes.
And my hands still shake where they’re tied behind my back, too. “You think she made it out?”
“Shut the fuckup.” He forces out the words through gritted teeth as we wait on our knees, his eyes flicking over to where Red sits on her fucking farce of a throne.
Her face is pale with rage as she sits silently. She doesn’t look our way at all, her green gaze focused on the entrance behind us, and damn if that doesn’t make me swallow.
Her indifference is far, far worse than her rage.
This is what you get for trying to be a goddamned hero, asswipe.
The silence drags on for long minutes, and despite myself, something twists inside my chest.
Maybe she did get out. Without the information she came here for, but with her life, at least. That has to count for something.
Let something I’ve done in my life fuckingcountfor once, instead of it being another item on my list of monumental fuck-ups. Another damned face to haunt me.
But life isn’t that kind.
I should know that by now, thought I’d learned that lesson a long time ago, but it still hits with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer as they carry her in. The slackness in her face is enough to tell me that Knave used his preferred subduing method on her.
Hatter straightens, and I look over at him. Devastation flickers across his face for a brief moment. But as Red glances at us, assessing our reaction, he wipes it away, schooling his expression into nonchalance.
Whoever Alyss is to him, he cares about her enough to try and protect her from Red’s wrath.
Frowning, I glance at the girl as they push her between Hatter and I, shoving her onto her knees in front of Red. She’s already stirring, blue-gray eyes blinking hazily as she struggles to pull herself upright, to lift up her head.
The only sound is the music from the club below us. Even the investors here tonight have given us privacy for this, stalking the dancefloor for prey and leaving Red alone to deal with her problem possessions. Curtains hide us from any curious eyes that might wander upward.
Red crosses her legs, leaning back. Her shimmering dark green gown drapes to one side, revealing a long, golden limb as she rakes a hand through her hair, blood-red lips pursing.
She scans Alyss before she turns to me. Her voice is ice cold. “Explain.”
My lips twist up as I incline my head, almost mockingly. The words flow smoothly from my lips. “Of course. I believe there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. The girl was drunk, and I pulled her off the floor so as not to disturb the other patrons. Hatter saw me – and, well.”
I roll my eyes. “You know what he’s like. Too honorable for his own good. He thought I was taking her off somewhere to ravish her and got alloffendedover it.”
Shrugging one shoulder, I track Red’s movement, the furrow that deepens between her brows at my words. “A storm in a teacup, I’m afraid. My apologies for the disruption.”
