“You keep saying I’m too close to this,” I say with a neutral tone, “but you’re doing the same thing yourself. You’re dead set on turning her into the villain just because she’s a rich politician’s daughter, not because she’s actually given you a reason.”
His lips press into a thin line. “Don’t turn this around on me, Finnic.”
“Well, my gut is telling me that this will go bad if we keep pushing.” I throw my hands in the air out of irritation. “You really think no one else is looking for her? I could imagine her father has a bunch of dirty ass people on hispayroll who are doing anything in their power to find him and her both.”
Dante steps closer, lowering his voice to a dangerous murmur. “This has always been a bad situation, Finnic. The difference is you’re finally choosing to see it. I mean, fuck. Most of the dudes we take are nobodies with a gambling addiction or something similar, and now we have New York State’s most beloved Representative’s daughter.”
From behind the door, there’s nothing. No sound and no movement, but I can’t shake the odd feeling that she’s awake.
I glance over his shoulder at the door again, then shift my gaze back to him.
“And that’s exactly my point,” I say quietly. “She’s not some nobody. Keeping her here longer than necessary paints a big red target on our backs.”
Dante doesn’t look away from me. “You think I haven’t considered that?” He leans against the doorframe. “You think Viktor hasn’t?”
“Then enlighten me,” I shoot back. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like we should drop her off somewhere random and wash our hands of this entire situation.”
Dante grimaces and then straightens from the doorframe slowly.
“Drop her off,” he repeats sarcastically. “You really think she’s gonna walk away scot-free after this?”
“I assume she’d at least leave this ordeal alive, yes.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says.
He then walks away from the doorway he’s been guarding and trudges by me, but not before shoulder checking the fuck out of me on the way out.
This is easily the strangest situation I’ve ever been dropped into, and that is saying a lot considering Dante has been my partner through most of the worst ones in the last year. Nothing about this follows the usual rhythm of things.
I can’t deny the pull of empathy toward her, no matter how much I try to shut it down. At the same time, I can’t ignore the way Dante is acting. He is almost… invested in a way that doesn’t sit right with me.
He keeps talking about boards and pieces and moves like this is all some elaborate fucking setup meant to be won. And maybe that’s how he survives it, by flattening everything into something controlled.
But it bothers me. A lot. Because the more he frames it like a game, the easier it seems for him to forget that there is an actual person caught in the middle of it.
By dawn, she will either let something real slip and buy herself a chance at survival, or she will finish writing the ending herself.
Chapter Nineteen
Everleigh
I know betterthan to try and pretend I’m still asleep. My mind is too busy monitoring their conversation to actually sleep anyway.
I swear their bickering feels like it lasts forever.
Dante knows what we have to do to push him over the rails, I just am not sure why he hasn’t done it yet. Maybe it was the confusion on how to see Finnic.
Friend or foe. Partner or rival.
At this point, he could be both.
I stretch as much as I can considering my ankles and wrists are still bound together tightly but there isn’t much relief where that stands.
I turn my head at the sound of the door opening.
Finnic comes in alone this time, shoulders filling the frame like he hasn’t decided whether to actually enter or leave.
I adjust to a sitting position the best I can before saying, “You’re going to get a crick in your neck staring like that.”
