Page 155 of Crave

This is the only chance I’ll have to see Lara again.

Even if it’s one percent, it isn’t zero.

I lay in my cot and stare at the ceiling, counting every single blemish and pock in the concrete until the heavy click of the switch signals the darkness.

Fuck. Now or never.

My door slides open soundlessly and so does his.

He’s lying on his bed, watching me in the dim light.

Without a word, he holds out a whittled down toothbrush, and tilts his head back.

Why is my throat so tight and my arms so heavy?

Is this what dread feels like?

Flattening my palm over his forehead, I pull the makeshift shiv from his fingers.

I mouth the words “I’m sorry” before sinking the point into the bottom of his chin, up into his skull.

He twitches, his hand jerks against my chest, then falls limp.

Maybe I should pull it out, but I don’t want to be covered in his blood.

Sneaking back to my own cell, I pull the pebble out of the lock and latch it while I cough to cover the noise.

Now, all I can do is wait for the guards to find him.

“I didn’t do it! I swear!” Cries echo through the building as the guards drag Misha down the corridor.

“He didn’t have his toothbrush.” Sven winks at me as we watch the man getting dragged away.

We’re all quiet as the yells fade.

Vanos planned well. I think I’ll always call him the Butcher, though.

Sounds better.

“How soon do you find out?” Ben turns and runs his thickly tattooed fingers through his hair.

I shrug, trying to ignore the ache in my chest over what I did last night. “No idea. It might not happen at all. I might be completely fucked.”

“What will you do if you can’t get out?” Sven crosses his arms over the highest seat on the bench and rests his chin on them.

“Whatever we want. Vanos left us in charge. Can’t let everyone fall into chaos.” I grin at him and crack my knuckles.

He smiles back. “I like how you think.”

“Prisoner number five-three-eight-two!” One of the biggest guards calls for me.

My stomach sinks. Do they know it was me?

“Here!” I call out and jog to him.

I guess my stay is done here either way.

“Your lawyer is here.” He twirls his finger at my hands, the signal to hold out my wrists for restraints.

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