Page 93 of Reign

“I need clothes. Did Ahmar…?” I scan the small, private room for any kind of bag, and find a small sports duffel on the single visitor’s chair.

I stumble over to it on weak legs, pretending Tempest isn’t judging my body as I turn my back to him, my gown puddling to the floor, then throw on a long-sleeve shirt, jeans, and a winter coat.

His silent presence tells me that’s exactly what he’s doing, so I distract him by saying, “Ahmar has this under control. He believes us and is willing to help reveal the truth to Haskins.”

“Oh, yeah? And what happened the last time you trusted the process, little possum?”

I zip up my jacket and turn. “Tell me another option, then, because after becoming a popsicle in a lake while I watched Chase bleed out in front of me, I’m out of ideas.”

“There’s your problem.” Tempest points at me. “You’re a no optimism possum.”

He hooks my arm and pulls me to the door, using his other hand to put a finger to his mouth.

“Police are stationed at my door,” I whisper. “I sure hope you have a plan other than to tip-toe out of here.”

Tempest cracks the door open, peers through, then, seemingly satisfied, pushes it all the way open. “The nurses are changing shifts. We’ll cut through the hallway and slip through the exit over there. And we’re talking small-town cops, babe, not super-duper detectives.” After he ushers us all the way out, he gestures to the slumped over cop on the chair. “Slipped him some of James’s Ambien in his decaf. He’s out.”

I study Tempest for some sort of reaction after mentioning a friend who so utterly betrayed him by offering Chase up to Sabine on a platter, but Tempest’s face is predictably blank as he scoots me past the snoring guard and through the exit.

He grabs my hand to pull me downstairs, but I hold onto the banister to stop the descent.

Tempest’s shoulders slump on a sigh. “Have I not reasonably explained the dire need to run at this point of our escape plan?”

“I thought you were bringing me to Chase.”

His lips pop on another exhale. “Babe, I hate to tell ya, but he’s the least of your worries.”

“Ahmar’s dealing with the police. He’ll add enough doubt that Haskins’ll look at more than just me when it comes to Ivy or Chase’s attack.”

Another sardonic brow arch. “How is any of this relevant to me right now?”

“You don’t have to break me out of the hospital. I trust my uncle. He’s the only person I’m certain has my back.”

“Shit.” Tempest tucks his hands in his pockets, then tilts against the wall to better see me. “You’re assuming your uncle got out of this hospital unscathed, aren’t you?”

Every part of me goes cold. “Why wouldn’t he? He has nothing to do with secret societies or Briarcliff. He’s an outsider.”

“He’s yours.” Tempest eyes me steadily. “And he’s important to you and willing to hear your opinion. All things Sabine doesn’t enjoy hanging out in the open.”

My chapped lips peel apart. “Sabine has Ahmar?”

Tempest’s mouth turns grim. “No, she has Ahmar, Emma, and Eden.”

32

Callie

“How am I supposed to believe what you’re saying?” I ask Tempest, but my tone wobbles. My question is frantic. “You’re one of them. You could be leading me right into Sabine’s clutches.”

“Well, I am leading you to her, but not for her dinner aperitif. Chase is my boy.” Tempest pushes off the wall. “My ride-or-die. I played no part in what happened tonight, and I fucking wish I did.”

Tempest halts at the step below mine. We’re almost eye-to-eye, and there, right there, is the emotion I was searching for when it came to discovering one of your best friends is a traitor.

“If I’d known, I would’ve told Chase not to go near you. If I’d had any inkling of what runs in your blood, I would’ve done everything in my power to harass you, terrify you, get you to quit and have you running back to your uncle-daddy with your tail between your possum pussy—and I promise you, while I might’ve fucked you like Chase, I wouldn’t have left you whole the way he has.”

I swallow against the vicious, streaming sentences, but hold his stare. “My mother did her damndest to keep me away from this hellhole. If I’d had any inkling, I would’ve gladly gone through life without ever going to this school, seeing your face, knowing my real father, and figuring out that all secret societies are good for is protecting murderers and pedophiles.”

Tempest tilts his head, a modicum of respect flashing in his eyes. “Not all of us. It’s why I find myself in this position, where my boy can’t. Chase wants all that shit to end, and so do I. We may be seniors at Briarcliff Academy, but we hold a lot of fucking clout within our Noble circle.

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