He slides his hand once more around me, taking out his phone and reading a few messages distractedly, as if he hadn’t just killed a woman in the worst way possible.
“Damien,” I squeak out. “What was that?”
“Hmm?” He turns his head to me. “Oh, that. This plane is designed specifically for parachuting purposes. In most airplanes, you can’t open the door mid-flight, but thanks to a special design, it’s possible with the Devil plane.”
I gape at him. “I meant… I meant the fact that you pushed out that woman. She wasn’t wearing a parachute, was she?”
He shrugs. “I hope not. That would have defeated the purpose.”
“You killed her,” I say, my eyes wide.
Sighing, he puts his phone aside. “Yes, I did. Happy now?”
No, I’m not happy. I’m the furthest thing from happy possible. My entire body is shaking, and I can’t understand my ownreaction. I’ve killed two people in my life without even batting an eye. But they posed direct threats to the only people I ever loved. The first man killed my mother. The second was intent on causing Damien’s death.
I can’t understand this senseless killing. He just… pushed her out of the airplane, unprovoked. My fear of being beaten again in some near or distant future merges with a new fear.
If he’s capable of doing that to her… what could he do to me?
He chuckles at my shocked expression, then unsnaps my seatbelt and drags me onto his lap. “Don’t worry, my darling. She’s the rat.”
My eyes widen. “The… the rat?”
“We know she’s been giving information to Angel. She’s the reason you were kidnapped by them twice. Anyone who hurts you is dead. And rats need to get weeded out, anyway. She was putting all of us at risk.”
As he speaks, my shock gives way to confusion, to a forgotten memory… then to a strangled feeling of anxiety as I realize that he’s reading me, as usual.
“Oh,” he mutters.
I close my eyes, but it’s too late. He must have seen the sudden flash of memory in my eyes, and slow comprehension dawns in his.
“You’ve never seen this girl before,” he guesses. “Not apart from the picture, that is.”
I confirm it with a shake of my head.
“So, how did you escape the first time?”
I try to swallow, but it doesn’t feel like I have a drop of moisture left in my body. He slides his arm around me, but once more it’s threatening, not protective. His hand squeezes my arm like an iron vise.
“You know more than you’ve been letting on,” he says. “Someone helped you escape, that first time, when you walkedright into Angel’s hands. And you knew that person. Who was it?”
I shake my head again, willing the tears to fall, willing anything to happen that might divert his attention, which is so overbearing that it feels like it’s draining the life from me.
“Who?” he insists.
I try to place my head in the nook of his neck again, but he keeps me from him. I close my eyes, remembering that horrible time, nearly two years ago now, when I had made up my mind to escape. I had accepted Angel’s offer to run away, not realizing I was falling into a trap. And the person who’d brought me a key, hidden in a dessert, was…
The quiet woman. The one who’s been with Devil so long she’s practically one of them. The woman no one ever suspected.
I didn’t know her name, then, but I found it out when I started living with Damien. It’s Lucy. That’s the quiet woman’s name. Lucy.
Somehow, I never put two and two together. If I thought of her, it was merely to assume she was trying to help me. Even though some part of me realized something was off, I guess I’ve never thought about her long enough to understand.
A sickening feeling overpowers me. I wonder if Alice died for nothing. Did Damien kill an innocent woman, and is he going to kill Lucy now, if I reveal her identity?
The now familiar lung-crushing sensation pushes down on me. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Goddamnit, I can’t breathe.
Alice’s last moments dance before me, the sudden realization of what was going to happen to her, the absolute horror in her eyes a moment before Damien threw her from the plane. And then, when he casually returned to me, as if nothing were the matter…
