He swivels on his stool, eyes looking over me. “Offering her a way out of here.”
“Why? She’s not yours to offer anything to.”
“She’s not yours either. She gets to make her own decisions with me.”
“She’s not with you.”
“She very much is. Luckily for you.” I watch as he starts filling a syringe with a concoction of liquids and eventually puts it down on the table. “And if you’re amenable to suggestion, you’ll get her again, but on my terms for as long as she’s willing to try.” I didn’t understand any of that, and the door sliding open again and her walking through it doesn’t make the consideration any more clarifying.
I glance over her body, taking in the casual clothes. Black jeans, high black boots, and a weak, light blue sweater that shouldn’t be anywhere near the attitude she holds. Hannah’s. It’s all Hannah’s clothing.
My eyes narrow as she gets closer, mind unsure what they’ve been talking about.
“No,” snarls out of me. I’m not being coerced or manipulated into anything. I’m the game player here. I’m the one who sets the rules and makes the outcome plausible, no matter how exhausting that might be sometimes.
“See?” she says. “Pointless.”
Gray chuckles. “Try.”
She sighs and looks back at the door, then back at me again. “It’s impossible here. There’s nothing normal to contend with or use.” Damn right there isn’t.
“It’s all you’ve got.”
She finally looks at me again, a loose frown showing off that attitude to full effect. “How long?” I don’t know what she’s talking about, and my face must show that. “How long have you been living a lie?” A bizarre half laugh falls out of me. A lie? I don’t even know what a lie is. Lies, truths? What does it matter? Everything is as it needs to be to achieve whatever needs accomplishing, whether that’s lawful or not or here in my mountains or not. There are no rights or wrongs, no offers of condemnation or praise for the predicaments I orchestrate either. Business, fucking, manipulation – it’s all one in the same with nothing countering its ebb or flow.
“My truth isn’t yours. I don’t live in truths that the rest of the world depends on.”
The frown deepens on her face, as if she has no idea what that means. And why would she? She’s a normal person with a normal life and normal avenues. It all comes under the guise of political suppression with no ability to break out like the rest of us have been born with.
I look at Gray rather than acknowledge her lacking understanding. “I want you out of here.”
He snorts and picks up the syringe, body perfectly still after that. “Of course you do, but I’m not going until I’ve seen at least two weeks of clean, rational behaviour.”
“Out.”
“No.”
I go to stand, fucking infuriated with all of this, only to find that my body and it’s lacking energy still hasn’t got any chance of beating the crap out of him. “I’m warning you.”
“With what? You’ve got nothing to warn me with.”
“I’ll destroy you.”
“Unlikely. And impossible from the sanatorium you’re going to be in if you don’t behave.”
My eyes narrow further, mind knowing full well he could probably make that happen if he chose to regardless of who I am. “Behave?”
“Yes. For her.”
I swing my gaze back to her, unsure what that means, and watch as she smiles softly. I don’t like it. It’s not my little Alice. No anger in her, no burst of flare or indignation. And I can’t see my fucking tattoo’s either. “Take your clothes off,” spits out of me. The smile widens, hidden, dirty intent now on show rather than whoever that condescending version of her was. Better.
“Are you going to let me give you this?” Gray asks.
“What?” He holds up the syringe. “What is it?”
“A counter agent.”
“Why?”
