Page 44 of Deadly Rival

I don’t call him sir, even though, apparently, it’s expected, and he doesn’t remark on it. “Okay.”

I spend the next five minutes in the bathroom, mostly staring at my face in the mirror. Yesterday, with everything, I didn’t have the chance to process the changes to my appearance. Now, it’s all I can see.

The worst thing is, I don’t hate it.

When I was younger, I longed to dye my hair crazy colors, but Dad would have killed me. One of the reasons I picked on Maggie was her hair. She had a new color every few weeks, and her parents didn’t give a shit. Jealousy turned to hatred in my dumb teenage brain.

I wrap the blanket around me like a dress, tucked in tight, as I study my lips. They don’t hurt anymore, and the effect is subtle, not like the duck face some women love. It adds sensuality to my features, and I can’t stop staring. I touch them, and even the glittery nail tips don’t look out of place, paired with the hair and eyelashes. It’s different, but I can’t convince myself it’s all bad.

Only the bedroom door clicking open pulls me away.

“Hello? Ophelia?” a bright voice calls. “We’re coming in, okay?”

I take a deep breath and step into the bedroom. Two women hover just inside the door. One is tiny, with a mass of bright green hair, a crop top, and a miniskirt that covers about as much of her as my outfit choices will me.

The other is a little taller, has her long brown hair in a sensible ponytail, and wears jeans and a black T-shirt decorated with a Cheshire Cat grin. The curly script readsStep into Wonderland.A choker circles her throat, and though I can’t be sure, everything about it screamscollar.

They couldn’t be more different, though they both wear identical pairs of metal cuffs on their wrists. Weird. Which one is Gabriel’s Ward? His slave? My stomach clenches as I think the word while looking at these two real women, these human beings, trapped here for the pleasure of sick men.

The smaller one squeals. “Oh my God. Your hair is fucking amazing. I wish I could get mine shiny like that, but it’s damaged as all fuck.” She brandishes a chunk of her thick hair in my direction. “See?”

I stammer, “Uh…” as the taller girl gives me a warm smile.

“Hi. I’m Eve, and this is Quinn.” Her warm brown eyes flick to the pet bed, and my face heats as her hand flies to her mouth before she covers her shock. “I’m guessing you’ve had a rough first day.”

“You could say that.” To my horror, my bottom lip wobbles, and I breathe hard to stifle a sob. I’ve been clinging to control for so long that it won’t take much to strip it from me.

Eve nods. “We’ve both been through it. We know how you feel. I cried my head off at first.”

“And I set fire to Jacob’s favorite stuff,” Quinn chimes in. “Though in my defense, I was really, really fucking drunk.”

I stagger to the bed and collapse onto the edge, head in my hands. The girls sit either side of me, and one of them wraps an arm around my shoulders. Eve speaks. “You’re not on your own here. We don’t know each other yet, but we will. You’ve got friends.”

Notdon’t worry, we’re getting out of here.

Notthese bastards won’t win in the end.

Notwe’ll kill these assholes together.

Friends. They want to be friends. They’re just as messed up as everything else in this place, and I’ll get no help from them. My skin heats, and my blood pounds in my ears. If what Sebastian said was true, I might not get released today. They might actually decide to take my family on. How long can I survive here? There’s nothing I can do to help myself. Nothing at all.

Jesus Christ, stop being a whiny, pathetic little girl. You’re a Calder.

My dad’s voice rings through my head, pulling me back from the brink.

Eve speaks again. She seems to be in charge, out of the two of them. “I know it’s a lot. You must have a million questions. We’ll answer them, if we can.”

Just what I need. Rote answers from brainwashed zombies. So helpful.

Except, maybe it is.

When we were setting up my salon, my dad lectured me nonstop.The most valuable asset in the world is information. While your girls stick preservatives into these dumb bitches’ faces, listen to what they’ve got to say. Chances are they’ll drop something useful once in a while.

The jittery edge of panic recedes, as it often does when I give myself a problem to chew on. Even if these women are institutionalized, they’re still useful. They’ll have information and might be able to move around without a guardian.

I force my shoulders to relax and my head to lift. Eve and Quinn glance at each other, then Quinn bounces to her feet. “First step—let’s get the fuck out of this room. Away from…” Her gaze shifts to the pet bed. She takes a slow step toward it, as if dragged by an invisible force.

“Quinn.” Warning resonates through Eve’s voice. “Don’t you—”

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