“Like you have?”
Any colour that had managed to make its way onto her face drains immediately.
“I’m sorry, Emmie. I’m so sorry.”
“Get some rest. Who knows if you’ll be thrown straight back in a cell when you leave here. You might need all the strength you can get.”
Theo guides me out of the room with his hand resting on my lower back.
I want to shrug it off, but also, I don’t want Mum to think there’s anything but truth in my words.
He might not hurt me in the ways I’m sure she was trying to warn me against, because he’s already broken me—not that I’m allowing him to see it.
The second I discovered the truth, that he’d been lying to me about the reason we got close, he shattered my trust in him. And it’s not something he’s going to be able to win back easily, if ever.
“Get off me,” I snap the second the door closes behind us.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, you know that, right?” he asks, wrapping his hand around my forearm and spinning me so I have no choice but to face him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
I stare into his green eyes, and something deep, deep within me wants to believe the sincerity I can see glittering within them. But I can’t.
“You already have, Theo. This…” I say, gesturing between us, “it’s a game. One I’m sure you’re going to win in the end, but a game nonetheless.”
His hand slides down my arm until his fingers twist with mine and he pulls me a little closer.
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he whispers.
My heart somersaults in my chest, because as much as I might tell myself I don’t want him, that I don’t care, it’s far from the truth. But I need to think with my head right now, not any other part of my body.
“That’s a fantasy, and you know it. Figure out your shit. Get the answers you need. And then you’re going to let me go.” Ripping my hand from his, I turn my back on him. “If I haven’t already found my way out before then,” I say quietly—mostly to myself, because I have to believe that all the work I’ve put in since I woke up in that damn cell hasn’t been for nothing.
I come to a grinding halt when a familiar figure sitting on a bank of chairs a little down from Mum’s room catches my eye.
“Daemon, what a wonderful surprise,” I say in greeting, sarcasm thick in my voice. “I guess I should have noticed yesterday that you’d have security on your asset.” My eyes roll so hard they hurt.
“I’m sorry, Em. Boss’s orders.”
“Was pumping my veins full of drugs an order too?” I ask. I only have hazy memories of what happened after Theo dragged me from Mum’s body in that cell. But he was there, I know that now. He was also in my cell after, too.
It’s not often that any kind of emotion can be read in Daemon’s cold, stoic expression, but when he blinks, I’m sure I see something akin to regret there.
“I panicked. I’m sorry.”
It occurs to me as I stand there before him that he’s the first person aside from Theo and Mum—okay, and a nurse or two—that I’ve seen in days.
“You know, don’t you? You know he’s locked me in his penthouse like some twisted fucking Disney princess?”
Daemon’s face remains blank as his eyes lock on Theo, who’s standing behind me. I don’t need to know he’s there. His scent, his heat, the way my body burns, I know he’s bloody there.
“None of my business, Emmie.”
“I won’t rely on you being the white knight who comes to my rescue, then.”
His eyes hold mine for a beat. I start to think he’s not going to say anything, but then he leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees and damn near knocking me on my ass.
“You don’t need one, Em. You’ve got a perfectly good deviant one behind you.”
“Ugh, you’re all a massive pain in my arse, the lot of you.”