He shrugs, his face still in his hands, then opens his palms. “Eventually?”
I glance at the door that separates us from Caroline. “This isn’t good.”
“I know.”
“But that’s it? That’s the reason for the second thoughts?”
And again, it’s just a split second, but he folds his lips into his mouth before he nods.
And that’s all I need to know that there’s more. It isn’t just the boys keeping Caroline alive right now.
It’s Caroline herself.
13
CAROLINE
I don’t knowhow long I’ve been sitting here, back straight against the too-cold wall, but my arms have gone numb from the angle they tied me in. My wrists are raw. The skin stings with every tug, but I keep pulling anyway. Like the metal will suddenly forget it’s strong. Like desperation could make me stronger.
My mind won’t stop spinning.
Not with fear, though that’s there too. It’s spinning with math. With angles. With possibilities. How many seconds would it take for me to get out of the cuffs? If I screamed, how quickly would they reach me? If I cried hard enough, could I manipulate one of them?
Kellan, maybe. He’s got soft eyes, and he seemed willing to let me live. Rian fought Declan off me.
But he also set me up.
I don’t understand any of it, why I was set up just to be saved, why they didn’t just kill me in my sleep. Why Rian pursued me,kissed me, made me feel loved. He manipulated me, so maybe I could manipulate him.
You have to know someone to manipulate them.The thought races through my mind, that I know nothing about Rian, that everything he told me was a lie. And that he really did see me.
I have to get back to my sons.
I close my eyes and picture them. The gap between Isaac’s front teeth, the way Joshua still pronounces “library” as “lie-berry.” I can’t let their last memory of me be eating mac and cheese while I poured milk and said I’d be back soon.
I open my eyes again and stare at the door.
I could cry. Or beg. But maybe that’s what they want.
When the door swings open, I flinch. My heart kicks against my ribs like it wants out.
It’s Declan. He especially would want me to cry. He would like it, I can tell. He’s cruel and unyielding. And he makes my heart pound.
His jaw is clenched, and the vein in his neck is raised like it’s trying to crawl out of him. “On your feet.”
I blink. “What?” He moves toward me, one lurch, and I scramble to my feet.
Rian and Kellan enter behind him, Kellan holding a suitcase, Rian holding a shirt. Declan reaches for my cuffs, and I pull my hands away instinctively. From across the room, Rian’s eyes meet mine, and something flickers there. Pity? Regret? It doesn’t matter. It isn’t enough.
I relax my body, and Declan’s fingers wrap around my wrist to steady my shaking hands. My body shudders as the metal comes off. The room is crisp with tension, all three of them waiting to see what I do. If I scream or fight right now, they’re poised. I need them to underestimate me.
So, I stumble.
Rian steadies me. His hand is warm, steady on my elbow, and it makes me want to tear my own skin off that I still feel the electricity that made me come here in the first place. “Get dressed,” he says quietly, handing me the shirt in his hand. It’s long, a button-up, one of theirs. It smells like Rian does, copper and oak. I imagined that I’d be wearing his shirt, just not like this.
I wait for them to leave, stand there holding the shirt, but slowly the realization sinks in that they’re going to watch.
I dress slowly, my hands shaking, my brain working. They wouldn’t be dressing me if they were going to kill me here. That means they’re taking me somewhere. Which means there might be a chance. A moment. An opening.
