Page 200 of Stay Scared

Ash’s voice comes low beside me. “Come closer.”

Rook stops.

Ash is bleeding through his sleeve, his temple is open again, and one side of his shirt has gone nearly black. He still looks like he wants Rook within arm’s reach.

Rook sees that too. The mask hides his smile. I hear it anyway.

His eyes turn toward the bolted chair. The restraints hang open around it, steel arms folded away from the seat.

Rook crouches, and Ash’s hand leaves his side.

“Ash.”

He looks at me.

“Do not go in.”

“He is reaching under the platform.”

“I see him.”

“I can stop him.”

“You can barely move your left arm.”

“That has not stopped being irritating.”

Rook jerks hard on something beneath the chair. Metal screams across the room.

Cade hits the observation glass with his palm. “Rook.”

The beak turns toward him. Cade stands inches from the window, his face gone cold in the way that usually comes before violence. Rook grips one of the steel restraint arms and pulls. The chair groans beneath him.

Ash straightens. “He cut that mounting earlier.”

Rook yanks again. The restraint tears loose with a crack that fills the room. He rises, holding several feet of steel with the padded cuff still attached, the torn end jagged beneath the red light.

Cade hits the glass again. “Open this door.”

I look at him. “No, I won’t.”

“Salem.”

“He wants you inside.”

“What he wants is irrelevant.”

Rook turns the broken arm slowly in his hand. Cade’s fingers close around the edge of the observation frame.

I have seen those hands around me. I have seen them stop.

Right now, stopping looks as if it hurts.

Rook walks toward the glass.

Ash reaches into the control alcove and pulls free a heavy red handle connected to an old cable. He presses it into my palm.

“What is this?”