Buck sighs. “We try our very bestnotto die a horrible death for the entertainment of whichever rick pricks are watching us. Or just lay down and wait for it to happen. Whatever works.”
“Stay with me,” Chess murmurs firmly. His face is ashen when I look at him. “Whatever happens, Lyss. Promise me.”
Hatter shifts. Neither Chess nor I miss that it’s in my direction. He nods at Chess, his chin lifting. “The more people watching her back, the better, right?”
Chess gives him a hard stare. Hatter meets his look with one of his own, his shoulders stiffening beneath his coat. “You’re not the only person who cares about what happens to her, you know.”
“Youjustmet her,” Chess hisses. “Andyou’re the reason she’s here in the fucking first place.”
I shift in between them, my back to Hatter as I place my hands against Chess’s chest andpush. He moves back a few inches. “We really have bigger things to worry about than this right now. Can we just agree to work together?”
“Every man for himself,” Buck murmurs. He winks at me. “Sorry, trouble. You’re pretty, but so is my face.”
Fair enough.
For a split second, Hatter and Chess look united in the shared look of disgust on their faces.
“Hatter isn’t the reason I’m here.” I ignore Buck, looking up at Chess’s tortured expression. “Youknowthat.”
He stares over the top of my head, his face glacial. “Fine.”
Just for a moment, Hatter steps closer, until I’m pressed between them. I blink, an unexpected wave of…something, clenching in my stomach as I take a breath, feeling them both against me.
Not the right moment for a pussy flutter, Alyss.
Swallowing, I slip out from between them. “Excellent. Although I’m not a fan of the damsel in distress narrative, just for the record.”
“Be a fan of whatever narrative you want,” Chess mutters. “You’re still staying between us.”
Fair enough. I’m also not an idiot. I might not be completely helpless, but without weapons and in these fucking ridiculous shoes, I’m more likely to be a liability than anything else.
My pulse begins to thud as that mechanical voice sounds over the speaker again. We line up by the door, the four of us at the back. Buck goes first with Hatter behind him. I follow, Chess close behind.
Most are silent, ashen and shaking. One tall, balding man in a ridiculous frilly overcoat and breeches looks as if he’s about to vomit, his face tinged green. In front of Buck, the scarred twin – Kayden – is staring stonily ahead as his twin mutters in his ear, both of them dressed in identical wine-colored shirts. His eyes flick to mine as I pass them before he turns away, jaw tightening.
“Silence.”
The thudding of my heartbeat sounds in my ears as the doors swing open. A row of guards stand there, guns trained as they gesture at us to follow.
My legs start to shake.
This can’t be real.
Chess’s hand brushes my back, as if sensing my panic, but he doesn’t risk speaking. He keeps it there, anchoring me as we walk in a line down a grim, concrete corridor. More of that strip lighting lines the low ceiling above us, a dying bulb flickering as we pass beneath.
I force myself to breathe in, breathe out.
Hatter’s back swims in my vision, and it’s Adam I can see instead. Head bowed, as he’s escorted into a sick, twisted game that ended up killing him.
Were you here? Did you walk this route too?
And now – in my eagerness, my desperation, my damned fuckingstupidity, Chess is walking the same way.
Chess was wrong when he said Hatter was to blame.
The only person to blame here is me.
Don’t let anything happen to him.
