Just empty space where he used to be.
“You’re awake,” he says flatly. “Good. We have a lot to talk about.”
“Am I your prisoner?”
“If you want to call it that. I prefer captive.”
I swallow hard. That’s much worse.
He jerks his chin at me. “Your ears are a lot better. Sorry about that.”
I reach up and gently touch my lobes. They’re crusted over where the earrings once were and they throb a little. I still can’t believe he ripped them out and then swallowed them. I can’t believe any of this.
“Let me go,” I say quietly.
“No,” he says, rubbing his hand over his chin. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Nate—”
“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” He steps into the room, closing the door behind him. The lock engages with a soft click. “Right now, to you, I’m the asset. The target. The subject of your surveillance.”
“That’s not?—”
“So who do you work for?”
The question is direct. He’s interrogating me.
I say nothing.
His jaw tightens. “Who do you work for?”
Silence fills the room.
“What’s your mission?”
I hold his gaze and give him nothing.
“What have you reported back about me?”
The silence stretches. I watch something build behind his eyes—frustration bleeding into rage.
“You think staying quiet is going to help you?” He takes a step closer. “You think I won’t find ways to make you talk?”
I keep my voice flat, bury my emotions back into that box.
“I think you can try.”
His nostrils flare.
“Fine.” He’s in my space now, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “Let’s try something else. What was real? Between us. Montana. The torch. Any of it?”
This one I want to answer. God, I want to answer it so badly my chest aches. But I can’t. Because if I start talking—if I give him even one thread—he’ll pull until everything unravels.
So I stay silent. It’s the only way I know how to do this. I’ve been through worse before and I have to be as hard as steel if I’m going to survive.
He stares at me, waiting for nothing, and something cracks in his expression.
“Nothing?” His voice drops to something desperate. Dangerous. “You’ve got nothing to say about any of it?”
