I tried to lift my hands, but they wouldn’t move.
My gaze was still half blurred and tilting sideways.
I could make out dark shapes. Flickering lights. Moving shadows.
Calm down, Blair. Take in your surroundings. Figure out where you are.
I was seated in a chair.
Wait, no.
I wasstrappedto one.
Rough rope dug into my wrists, bound to the arms of a wooden chair. My ankles were also tied. The fibers bit into my skin whenever I tried to break free.
The space looked similar to where I’d had my Initiation, but this one felt wickeder.
I was almost certain I was still in the tunnels.
And I was also almost certain these weren’t the same Sons from before.
They gave off a different vibe and wore different masks.
What had happened in the Fawn Quarters rushed back to me.
The men, the cloth to my mouth, them dragging me away.
A bright light above me turned on, and I jerked against the ropes again, refusing to be a show to these psychos.
“Hello, Blair.”
My entire body stilled at the distinct, chiding voice.
No, no, no-no-no-no-no.
Please, God, no.
I attempted to heave forward, but pain shot through my chest when a man stepped forward from the shadows. For a second, I refused to believe it was him.
He was the only one not wearing a mask.
He wanted me to see him.
When we came face-to-face, he dug his palms into my hands painfully. “Miss me?”
He inched back, studying me like I was an animal he’d just stuck in a cage, and he couldn’t decide what to do with me.
“You’re supposed to be in prison,” I said with a cracking voice.
It was obvious that wasn’t true, but those were the only words I could form at the moment.
My father smiled at me.
Not nicely. Not fatherly.
It was that same cold, demented smile I remembered from my childhood.
He had more wrinkles now, reminding me of old leather. He’d lost weight, and his eyes were more sunken in. His front tooth was decaying and chipped. But it was him.
