Page 26 of Untamed Sinner

Gabriel Reyes thinks putting me in a box has broken me. It hasn’t. It’s given me time to think.

The chain scrapes across concrete as I finish another push-up. Two hundred seventeen. I sit back on my heels, breathing evenly. Sweat runs between my shoulder blades. The skin beneath the cuff toughened weeks ago.

The body adapts.

So does the mind.

The lock disengages and the door opens. Gabriel Reyes walks in. I know it’s him by his cologne. Surprising—it’s not our normal “meeting” time, though over the last couple weeks Reyes hasn’t visited me as often. Not that I’m complaining. I prefer not being battered and bruised.

I get to my feet but don’t turn toward the door. Interest is information. I wonder what he could want. I wipe my hands on my pants before turning around.

He’s alone. Interesting. “Reyes, if I knew you were dropping by, I’d have tidied.”

“I’ll make sure to text next time.” He steps inside and the door closes behind him.

Gabriel doesn’t posture. That’s one of the things I respect about him. He doesn’t need to remind anyone what he’s capable of.

Neither do I.

He pulls the chair he normally uses and sets it just out of range of my chains. Sitting down, he straightens his pantlegs as he studies me. “I need information.”

Smiling, I sit on my cot. “Then you’ve come to the right place.”

His expression doesn’t change. “I’m looking for a woman.”

That gets my attention but I make sure it doesn’t show. “I know a lot of women. You’ll have to narrow it down.”

“Red hair. Blue eyes. In her twenties. Her picture is in a notebook found in your office.”

So my notebook was discovered. I’d wondered. But that’s all he has. If he knew more, he wouldn’t be here asking me. Everything inside me goes still. I’ve had thirty-six days to practice stillness, but this requires focus.

Steepling my hands on my knees, I smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to give me more than hair color.”

Gabriel watches me closely, and I have to work to keep my expression neutral.

He notices. Of course he does. “Who is she?” he asks.

“I don’t know who you mean,” I lie. Of course I know exactly who she is. I hand-picked her to destroy the Reyes family.

“Bullshit.”

I shrug. “Believe whatever you like.”

Gabriel leans back in the chair. “What happens in a week?”

I give him a bored look. “Hopefully something interesting. The entertainment in here is fucking terrible.”

“The girl,” he repeats. “What happens to her? Is she being kidnapped?”

“How can I do that if I’m in here?” I jingle the chains on my wrists.

“Who is she?” he asks again. “She must be important. You put her picture in the notebook.”

Frowning, I scratch my chin. “Did I?”

His stare turns flat.

“I’ve kept a lot of notebooks,” I say mildly.