“I cannot be in this group. Dig Graves is in this group.”
“Exactly.”
“I cannot—”
“We asked him which inmate he plans on giving the most gruesome death too and he said you.” The officer patted his phone on his belt. “I can’t wait to see what the inside of a De Astor looks like.”
“Well, I would like to be paired with the young man Tommy. I, uh, very much dislike him. Themotherfucker.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Oh, but I do, his football shirt greatly offends me. I prefer the other team.”
“That’s a basketball shirt.”
“If I obtain a medical certificate from my doctor, can I take sick leave and reschedule my attendance in this battle?”
The officer left.
Perfume of leather and metal crept to my nose from the direction of Dig Graves. His physique cast a shadow that licked over my breasts and hips and half of my face. This close, we shared breathing air.
I stepped to the side. He followed me.
The chains around his wrists rattled.
“Aw, how sweet, Princess. You dressed up pretty just for me.” My dress was silk. His voice was velvet. “Is that a custom altered dinner dress from Georio’s last spring line? It's fucking nice.”
Don’t look at the sunglasses.
A wicked laugh scampered from his lips. “Don’t bother running, you’re not going to get far in those heels.”
Don’t look at the sunglasses.
My heart was on a roller coaster. I breathed through it.
A girl was placed in our group donning Birk boots which I was almost certain would be my size. Made from leather and shaped well, perfect for hiking—or running away from madmen.
“Excuse me, new friend.” I waved to her. “Yes, you. I was wondering. Would you like a trade?”
She began an excavation in her nose. “What?”
“I'd like your boots. In exchange, I offer you my heels, they are Remi’s, last season, but they’re worth eight hundred dollars.”
“I don’t want heels.”
I hovered the box between us. “I have shortbread. Five pieces—oh.”
A large hand with a chained wrist crashed down onto my shortbread box and snatched all five pieces. Dig Graves. I did not watch but heard him funnel the biscuits into his mouth and crunch them down.
“I no longer have shortbread.” I tucked the box under my arm since I would not dare litter. “I have only my heels. Would you please take my heels?”
The girl scoffed. “What am I supposed to do with dumb heels in the Execution Battle?”
“Stab someone with the heel?”
“I’m going to stab you in the face, just like I did to my grandma. I don’t need a heel to do that with—ah!”
Dig Graves lunged forward and wrapped his chained wrists around the girl’s neck. He twisted once and a resoundingsnapstopped her wriggling. She fell into a slump on the floor, her neck bent at an awkward angle, her eyes open, stuck in shock forever.
