Page 123 of A Twisted Arrangement

“You don’t need to be so aggressive.”

She smiles, a glint in her eyes. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

Ignoring the warmth spreading through my chest, I take her in as she cleans, not bothering to tell her I can do it myself.

She looks better. The bruise around her eye is a faint yellow. Relief releases the tension in my muscles as I scan her, happy there’s no signs of new marks. At least I know my plan to keep Christopher’s attention on me is working.

She’s pulled her hair into a ponytail-bun thing that sits messily at the top of her head. An oversized sweatshirt fallsbelow her thighs, covering bright purple leggings. It’s such a far cry from the perfectly styled pieces I’m used to seeing her in.

“Nice outfit.”

“You’re one to talk.” She tosses her cloth back into her bag and sits with her back against the wall beside me, her head tipped back and her eyes closed. She’s left herself completely vulnerable to me, and instead of taking advantage, a sense of power flows through me at her trust.

I shake the feeling off and sit in an identical position beside her. She shouldn’t be here, but I selfishly don’t want her to go. When she’s here, everything else washes away as all of my attention fixes on her. I want to live in these stolen moments. I want them to stretch out forever until the only reality is me and her.

I close my eyes and pretend like we’re anywhere else.

We sit in silence for several moments. She’s practically vibrating against the stillness beside me. Clearly, my Little Sparrow does not like the quiet. I count the seconds in my head. Five, four, three, two…”

“Do you like sweet or savory?”

“That’s really the question you’re going to ask me?”

“Come on. You’ve got to be bored here.”

Bored? Not with the way the heat from her arm transfers into mine. I wait until I can feel her ready to wring my neck before answering. “Sweet.”

There’s something about riling her up that gets to me. To be fair, I don’t give a fuck what we talk about when she glares at me like that. I just want her to stay. She helps me forget this fucked-up situation. I’m not stupid enough to think we’re getting out. A part of me doesn’t want Damon to show up because if they catch him, this is all over.

Christopher’s clever. He knows he can’t leave any of us alive if he plans on taking the Everette family’s spot in the Order of Saints.

Scarlet doesn’t force me to answer, instead filling the silence with random, meaningless things that calm me way more than it should.

“You know, I’m kind of jealous of you.” Her voice is soft, and she’s staring at a moth fluttering around the ceiling light.

“Me? Chained and about to die?”

She shrugs. “First, you’re not going to die. That big brother of yours is going to get you out of here.” She sounds so positive that a trickle of hope slips in.

A blankness takes over her features. “Death is its own form of freedom though. At least that’s the last decision anyone can make for you.”

An eerie feeling prickles down my neck and sits like a rock in my stomach. What has she been going through to talk like that?

I brush back a strand of her hair, my handcuffs clicking together. “Don’t give them that kind of power over you.”

Her eyes close, breath leaving her. “What if it’s my decision? My power for once.”

A shudder runs through me as my blood grows cold. “Don’t talk like that.”

She smiles up at me, a lightness in her tone that makes me think I’ve imagined everything she just said. “What will you do when you escape? I know what I’d do.”

“What’s that?” I humor her, not wanting that sadness to creep back in.

“Run.” She sighs out a breath. “They’re trying to force me to marry some old guy. All this talk about duties and alliances. Like I don’t know I’ve beensold.”

My teeth grind together. “What do you mean? They’re marrying you offnow?” I knew she was betrothed, but even inour fucked-up world, the marriage wouldn’t happen until after she turns eighteen.

“Yeah, that’s why they’re keeping me here.” She smiles, eyes trained on that moth. “They’re worried I’ll run away.”

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