Page 120 of A Twisted Arrangement

My teeth scrape across each other. “Who hit you?”

She huffs out a laugh. “Who hasn’t.”

Before I say anything, she digs the needle into my skull, and I have to flex every muscle to keep myself from pulling away.

“Have you done this before?” I grunt out.

“No, but I’ve seen it done,” she says, an apology edging her words.

“Comforting…”

“If you hadn’t torn it when you woke up in the first place, you’d already be done by now.” Her voice is clipped, none of the trembling that had been present before.

I can’t help but smirk. “So this ismyfault.”

“Everything is your fault.”

I don’t dare move away in fear of her wielding that needle and respond, “You do realize they knocked me out to get me here.”

My last memory is of a silver steel pipe barreling toward my head. Just the thought of her asshole brother has my teeth grinding together.

“You shouldn’t have let yourself be caught to begin with. I honestly thought you Everettes were smarter than this.”

Cornflower blue fills my vision as she waits for a response.

“Me too.”

A slight flush crawls up her neck, stopping just below her ears before she goes back to torturing me. “I’m doing the best I can. Just stop moving.”

I stiffen under her touch, obeying her request, and use this opportunity to gain information. There’s no more powerful weapon than knowledge and who holds it. “How long have I been here?”

“Three days.” She’s so close, her breath fans over my temple. It reminds me of the moment behind the hedge right before the world got all fucked-up.

I wince when she tugs on the thread, then pierces my skin again.

She smooths her thumb under the cut. “Sorry…I tried using suture tape, but it wouldn’t stop soaking through.”

“It’s fine. Not my first time getting stitches.”

Her knuckles brush back a strand of my hair. “The scar is going to be awful. At least it’ll be hidden in your hairline.”

I chuckle under my breath. “I doubt I’ll live long enough for it to scar.”

She tenses before tying off the string with a knot and cutting the ends. “You’ll get out.”

Her fingers shake as she tucks away her supplies. She looks so small, ankles tucked under her knees, dress smudged with my blood.

I force playfulness into my tone, anything to stop whatever’s playing in her mind, and lay my hand over hers. Her gaze shoots to meet mine.

My lips curve. “Promises, promises. I’m going to hold you to that.”

She pulls her hand away. “Why do I feel like I just made a deal with the devil?”

I cock my head to the side. “I’m not sure I’m the devil in this situation, Little Sparrow.”

Voices come from the hall, and her eyes widen. “Pretend you’re still unconscious, and keep your stitches covered by your hair.”

I smirk, knowing damn well that’s the coward’s way out. “Now, where’s the fun in that.”

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