Page 51 of Serpent King's Revenge

From the corner of the room, Alex shifted uneasily. The tension between us was thick, but his concern was genuine. "She's got guts, I'll give her that. But we need to do this the smart way."

Knuckles rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes momentarily losing their usual hardness. "Well," he said after a pause that felt like an eternity, "I might have an idea…but it's a bit off the wall."

“Fuck it,” I said. “We need to do something. Let’s fucking go.”

Chapter Twenty-Three: Nathan

Somehow, time passed even slower in the federal pen.

At first, it passed fast…day to night, wondering when my people would come for me. I’d seen Abby there, seen some of the insurgents, seen some of my father’s men. Diane was dirty—but she was in the wind now, shot but escaped as far as I knew.

And I was in a federal penitentiary.

Diane’s death—or disappearance—was good for me, though. It meant I finally got access to a public defender…and I finally got my call.

I sat there, the cold metal chair biting into my back, waiting for the ringing to stop. My hand gripped the phone tight enough to make my knuckles white, but I forced my face to stay as still as stone. The ring echoed in the tiny room, bouncing off the cinder block walls.

"Hello?" The voice wasn't Abby's. It was Lily's. "Nathan? Is that you?"

Damn it. I was glad to know my sister was okay, yeah…but I wanted—needed—to hear Abby’s voice.

"Yeah, it's me." My voice came out level, but inside, my gut twisted up tight.

“Thank god,” Lily breathed, and I could hear her voice tighten, like she was trying not to cry. “I was…I was starting to think we’d never hear from you again.”

"I’m okay, Lily." I forced the words out, trying to keep my cool. "But where's Abby?"

"Keep your face straight," she said quick and low. "We've been working on it, she's coming to see you. Abby's on her way now, that's why I have her phone."

I barely nodded, keeping my features in check. The thought of seeing Abby again lit a fire in me, but I stamped it down.

Can't show anything. Not here. Not now.

"Wait, how's that even possible?" I asked.

"Your lawyer pulled some strings," Lily said. "After what they did to you in the county jail, he got you some allowances."

"Allowances like…?" I pushed, trying not to let the rush of hope mess with my head.

"A private visit with just you and Abby—we got a marriage license, don’t ask how.”

"Time's up," a guard barked from across the room.

"Thanks, Lily. Keep your head down, alright?" I said, keeping my voice steady.

"Always do, Nathan. Stay safe" she replied, and then the line went dead.

The guards were on me before I had a second to collect my thoughts. One grabbed my left, the other my right, and they clamped the cold cuffs tight around my wrists. The familiar weight of shackles settled over my ankles, and I shuffled forward, flanked by the muscle.

"Easy," one grunted as I stumbled, my legs not quite keeping up with their pace. I bit back a retort, my mind racing ahead of my halting steps. Abby was close; every jarring clink of metal reminded me of that.

They didn't haul me back to the grim box that passed for my cell. Instead, we veered toward the processing area, a zone humming with the sterile scent of bleach and the low murmur of authority.

"Strip," the same guard said, his tone flat. No sneer, no joy, just routine. A lot of the guards at the county jail had been my father’s men; here, they were true cops. They weren’t intent on torturing me, at least. I shed my prison garb under their watchful eyes, feeling the chill of the room raise goosebumps on my skin.

But it wasn't the cold that got to me—it was the wait, the damn wait to see her.

I stood there, skin bare to their scrutiny, as they patted down every inch like I might've stashed something in places I didn't even want to think about. It was degrading, sure, but what did I care?

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