No. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I keep moving, almost reaching the manhole that Stone disappeared through only a few short minutes ago, but a hand closes around my ankle, yanking me back so hard that my handsfall out from beneath me and I crash to the ground. My chest takes the brunt of the fall. “Promise. This won’t hurt one bit.”
Despite being winded, my panic keeps me moving, and I slam my ass back into his groin, putting just enough space between us as he groans in pain before whipping me around onto my back.
Fear rockets through me like a bullet released from its chamber, and before I lose my element of surprise, I rear my knee back as far as I can to slam it straight into the fucker’s nose, getting the sweetest satisfaction out of the crunch.
“FUCKING BITCH!”
He comes after me again, blood spurting from his nose.
I scramble once again, horror tearing through me as he tries to get ahold of my ankles again. My body acts by instinct, kicking, thrashing, and putting up one hell of a fight.
“DOWN!” Stone’s voice rips through the crawlspace.
I instantly flatten myself against the ground just moments before something whizzes past my face, my arms braced protectively over my head.
An agonized grunt comes from behind me, and as Stone fully pulls himself back up into the crawlspace, I brave a glance behind me. My latest attacker is spasming on the ground, the shiv that Stone had used to slice that asshole’s throat now protruding from this fucker’s eyeball.
“What the fuck?” I breathe.
“Can’t leave you alone for two fucking seconds,” Stone mutters, shaking his head as he makes his way toward me. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything,” I seethe, my heart still racing, watching as he grabs the shiv and yanks it out of the dude’s head, accidentally bringing his whole eyeball along with it.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, trying to scrape the eyeball off without actually touching it.
“You know, maybe next time you decide to leave me alone in a damn crawlspace, you could make sure there are no fucking psychopaths up here with me.”
“I told you to stay put. I didn’t say go searching for trouble.”
“Oh yeah. Blame the victim. You’re such a typical, small-minded man. It’s all my fault that a pin-dick asshole attacked me simply for having a vagina. Of course. How stupid of me to assume otherwise,” I say as he tucks the shiv away for safekeeping, probably somewhere next to the gun he stole from me. “Let me guess, I must have given him the wrong impression. I must have been asking for it. Was it my blood-stained outfit? Perhaps my hair is too provocative. I must have flipped it one too many times.”
Stone sighs, looking exasperated. “Are you done?”
I sigh right along with him, not having the energy to argue the point, knowing that’s not at all what he was trying to suggest, and that I’m just getting lost on a rant as the wildness of today begins creeping up on me. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Good. Then keep moving.”
9
STONE
Reaching the most eastern edge of the prison, I come to a stop and try to get a feel for anything that’s happening below the ceiling, but while we’re still hovering over C-block, the majority of the prisoners are either dead or rioting in the canteen.
Beneath us is nothing but the old, empty solitary cells from the eighties. This section of the prison hasn’t been used since the last renovations, so there’s no reason for anyone to be over here. In theory, we should be good to wait here until nightfall before finally getting out of here. Then the real fun will start.
“What are we doing?” Aria asks.
I glance back at her, seeing a raw nervousness in her eyes, and as I really take her in, I notice just how big a toll today has taken on her. There’s dried blood across her skin, claw marks from where men have grabbed at her body. Her white shirt isnow almost brown, torn across the front, and the thin straps are barely holding on. Her pants are the same, torn at the knees with fresh blood seeping through the fabric. We’ve only been crawling through the ceiling for maybe forty or fifty minutes at most, but it’s not an easy feat. The surface is rough, and it certainly wasn’t created for women in business clothes to be crawling across for long periods of time.
“You’re bleeding,” I murmur, pointing toward her scraped knees.
“Observant,” she says with a nod, the sarcasm thick in her tone. “Are you pointing that out because I’m clearly too clueless to have come to that conclusion on my own, or did you suddenly grow a conscience? Because the man who has done nothing but drone on and on about how he’s going to kill a woman for the past two hours shouldn’t give a shit that her knees are scraped up. I mean, if you’re going to put on this tough-guy act, then the least you can do is be consistent with it. I can help you with your character profile if you’re trying to be something that you’re not.”
No other woman on this godforsaken earth has ever gotten under my skin the way that she has.
“Don’t fool yourself, Menace. Just because I haven’t attempted to take your life yet, doesn’t mean that I won’t. I have dreamed about that moment for seven fucking years, and I’m not about to give up on that dream now.”
