Driven by rage and the horrifying memories of Zeke’s suffering that started long before his brother’s cult, Bane possesses the inhuman ability to completely ignore fear and pain. Disregarding the consequences, however, is a very human trait. Thorin and I decided, after too many broken limbs and scrapes with death, that it was too dangerous to take him on, even when it was two against one, so we resorted to tranquilizers to incapacitate him, but our first measure of defense was making sure that Zeke felt safe at all times.
It’s the reason for Thorin’s sudden shift when the possibility of what could happen occurs to him as well a moment later. “Ezekiel.” The gentle tone and sound of his proper name makes Zeke stiffen, since the first time he heard that tone from us was after we found him malnourished, stripped, bleeding, delirious, and strapped to a metal table. Now it only ever seems to remind him of that dark period. “It’s going to be okay. She’snotTatum. She’s not going to hurt you. We would never let her near you if we thought for a moment that she would.”
“I know that,” he snaps as he turns to face us.
Leaning forward and resting my forearms on my thighs, I stare at him. I watch the restlessness return as he starts to pace again. “Do you?”
“You want me to trust her?” he challenges, his tone sharp like a whip. Zeke stops to stand by the back wall where he can face Thorin and me. “You can start by telling me everything thathappened since the crash. Tell me that what she told the sheriff is true. Tell me that you kept her here to keep her safe and not because youforcedher for some convenient, in-house pussy.”
Thorin shoves his fingers through his hair and shakes his head. “We can’t do that.”
“Then I can’t trust her,” Zeke returns. “And for good fucking reason.” Thorin starts to argue, but the burning glare Zeke throws him warns Thorin to save his breath. He won’t be persuaded. His paranoia is embedded too deep and for good reason.
But there is loathing in that glance too—for Thorin and me. It’s there and gone in an instant but impossible to miss. Zeke hates us for trapping an innocent woman here with us.
He hates himself too. For his part in it. Even if it wasn’t reallyhim.
“You don’t have to worry though,” he says after the silence becomes a heavy pall. “If Aurelia is out for revenge, I can’t say that I blame her. And I won’t stand in her way.” Zeke seals his vow by turning his back on us and crossing his arms while he stares out of the window with an unobstructed view of the Cold Peaks in the distance. It feels like a line drawn in the sand, and for the first time, I realize that while Aurelia might have found it in herself to forgive us, Zeke is another story. “It won’t erase what we’ve done, but at least you’ll finally see the truth.”
“About her?”
Zeke scoffs as he continues to glare out of the window. “About us. And whatever this is.” He shakes his head. “One woman for all three of us? It won’t work.”
I stretch my legs and allow myself to finally relax on the bench opposite Thorin. “It’s been working so far.”
Zeke’s smirk is almost cruel when he turns his head to meet my gaze. “So far.”
His words feel like a threat, and I don’t feel my gaze narrowing until we hear a door slamming closed down the hall and it widens. That sound puts us all on alert as we listen to the footsteps growing closer.
Zeke even turns away from the window despite his promise to “distance” himself from this shit show.
He doesn’t take a single breath, and neither do I. Thorin, on the other hand, looks half asleep as he lazily watches the cell door. It feels like forever before an officer finally comes into view. But he doesn’t spare us a single glance as he keeps walking past our cell.
Thorin and I relax, but Zeke only grows more agitated.
“They’ve been in there for too long,” he gripes with a tight jaw. “You don’t think she’s had a change of heart?”
“I think the sheriff is giving her every opportunity to do so,” Thorin replies with his eyes closed. Clearly, he’s not the least bit worried that she will. I’ve been wavering between wanting her to for her own good and praying that she doesn’t. Thorin peeks an eye open to regard Zeke. “That means keeping her away from us as long as he’s legally able.”
Catching on, Zeke’s olive skin drains of color as he looks around the holding cell. It may not be the dog cage that haunts his dreams, but it’s a cage all the same. “He’s going to keep us in here all night?” His voice is ragged now for a different reason.
“Of course not. Don’t be silly.” Shifting to lie on my back, I get even more comfortable as I take a page from Thorin’s book and close my eyes with my hand resting on my abs. “We’ll obviously be here all weekend.”
“Bullshit,” Zeke snaps. “He can only keep us in custody for twenty-four hours without formal charges.”
Well, he’d know.
Zeke’s file full of misdemeanors back home is as thick as my arm. The juvenile detention center was his second home, and sadly the only one he remembers fondly.
“It’s Friday,” Thorin informs Zeke. “The sheriff just lucked himself into an automatic extension. That means he has all weekend to decide if he’s going to charge us or let us go.”
And Aurelia has three days to decide if we’re worth saving.
No one speaks as we let the knowledge that our fate is in the hands of someone who has every reason to burn us hang in the air.
Ten minutes pass before Zeke breaks the silence. “This might be a bad time to mention this, but I don’t know if I can last three days. Something’s off. I don’t feel right.”
“Well, you did die today,” Thorin reminds him in a grave tone. “Even though it wasn’t for long, we need to take that seriously and get you checked out as soon as we leave here.”
