“And I’m collateral damage?” Olivia asks, a hint of her usual dry humor returning.
“I’m sorry, Liv.”
She shakes her head. “Not your fault. Well, not this part anyway.”
We sit in silence for a moment, the reality of our situation heavy between us.
“Do you think Hunter will come for us?” Olivia finally asks.
I think about Hunter and the way he looked at me like I belonged to him. Whatever else I might not know about him, one thing seems certain.
“Yes,” I say. “Hunter will come for us. For me.” I squeeze Olivia’s hand. “Which means for you too.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
I stare at the locked door, imagining what might lie beyond it, who might eventually walk through it.
“Then I guess we wait and see what Jax wants with us.”
Liv grinds her teeth, a nervous habit she’s had since childhood. The sound echoes in our small cell, almost comforting in its familiarity.
“You’re doing it again,” I say, nudging her shoulder.
She stops, running her tongue over her teeth. “Sorry. Dad used to say I’d wear them down to nubs before I turned thirty.”
“Remember when he bought you that custom night guard, and you flushed it down the toilet?”
Liv snorts. “It was hideous! Bright pink with little rhinestones that he thought made itfashion-forward.”
“The plumber had to cut through the bathroom wall,” I say, laughing despite our situation. “Derek was so mad, he grounded you for a month.”
“Worth it. I looked like I had bedazzled dentures.” Liv stretches her legs out, the sequins on her gown catching what little light filters into our cell. “Anyway, you’re one to talk. You still do that thing where you twist your hair when you’re nervous.”
I realize my fingers are indeed wrapped around a strand of hair, twirling it unconsciously. “At least my habit doesn’t sound like someone’s using a chainsaw.”
“No, yours just makes you look like you’re five years old again,” she retorts, but there’s affection in her voice.
We sit in a moment of companionable silence before Liv suddenly chuckles.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“Just picturing your mom’s face if she could see us now. Kidnapped in evening gowns, discussing our terrible habits.”
I smile, thinking of my mom’s practical nature. “She’d tell us to take off our heels because they’re impractical for an escape.”
“And to stop wasting energy on banter when we could be planning,” Liv adds, mimicking my mom’s no-nonsense tone perfectly.
“She would have already MacGyvered her way out using nothing but a bobby pin and her underwire.”
Liv laughs, leaning her head against mine. “I miss her.”
“Me too,” I whisper, appreciating this moment of normalcy amid the insanity. “But at least we have each other.”
“Always,” Liv agrees, squeezing my hand. “Even when you’re sleeping with my fake fiancé.”
I snort. “God, our family is a mess.”
“Speaking of family,” Liv says, straightening her shoulders. “Remember when my dad first started dating your mom? I was such a brat.”
