Page 45 of Deadly Rival

“I have to. Sorry.” Quinn flings herself onto the pet bed and wriggles up to the pillow. “Oh. Oh my fucking God, this is comfy. I bet Seb had this hand-stitched by some blind Italian that only makes one bed a year or something.”

She sits up, grinning at me. “If you like fancy rich person shit, you got the right guy. Seriously. I’m going to ask Jacob for one of these. Perfect for gaming.”

Eve lets out a long sigh. “For God’s sake. She’s only just arrived.”

It should make me angry, Quinn making light of my captivity, but looking at her in the bed loosens the suffocating shame that’s been choking me. Seen through her eyes, it’s different, something to laugh at. And she’s right, it is insanely comfy.

For the first time since Sebastian forced me into his car, a smile touches my lips. My voice comes out quiet, but the girls turn to me, listening. “At school, Sebastian always wore baggy jeans and ratty, old T-shirts. I can’t believe how discerning he turned out.”

Quinn’s eyes widen. “I need all the gossip right now. Anything I can use against him the next time he makes fun of me.”

Eve chimes in, “That does sound fun, but we need to get her dressed, remember?”

She turns to me, face coloring. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to talk about you like you aren’t here. It’s one of my pet hates, and it happens a lot in the Compound. Gabriel said you need to get dressed. Seb insisted. We’ll head out to the living room, but don’t worry, Gabriel won’t hover around. He’s going to work in Seb’s office.”

Seb. She calls him Seb. As if he’s a friend, someone she’s comfortable with. It grates against my nerves.

Quinn jumps up. “Ooooh, what clothes do you have? I bet it’s all designer, right?”

My heart sinks again as my eyes stray to the closet. I sigh. “The opposite. He’s gone for more of a ten-dollar hooker vibe.”

An awkward silence falls, which Quinn breaks almost instantly. Defeating uncomfortable moments seems to be her superpower. She gestures dramatically to herself. “Don’t worry. Jacob won’t let me wear bras. Or anything except fucking skirts, and most of them are tiny. Pretty sure everyone in this place has copped an eyeful at some point. No one gives a shit.”

There’s something so goddamn reassuring about Quinn’s attitude. If she was in my place, she wouldn’t be wallowing in shame and self-pity. She’d probably give Sebastian the finger and walk out the door stark naked to call his bluff. I need a little more of her attitude and a little less of my own.

“Where are they? It can’t be that bad. We’ll make it work.” Eve smiles reassuringly as I point out the drawer. Within ten seconds, Quinn has everything dumped out and spread across the floor. She snatches up a silver miniskirt and squeals. “Holy fuck. I love this. What size are you?”

“You can’t steal her clothes.” Eve sounds annoyed, but it’s the friendly annoyance of people who love each other’s company.

Quinn huffs and puts it down before grabbing a miniature blue halter top that would barely cover my breasts. “This one. You’ll look smoking hot in this, and it matches your hair. Come on. Drop the blanket and try it.”

There’s a big, big part of me that wants to roll myself up in the blanket, throw myself down on the pet bed, and refuse to move until someone makes me. But that won’t bring me anycloser to freedom. Getting the hell over myself and facing this, though? That might actually help.

I steel myself and examine the clothes. “Okay. What else do you think?”

Two hours later, I’m seated on the sofa with the girls, watching some ridiculous reality show Eve insisted I’d love. I don’t, but I’m not going to argue when she and Quinn are clearly having a good time and just being around them is lifting my mood. It’s a wrench to my heart when Quinn glances at the clock and leaps up.

“Shit. I need to get to Medical. It’s my checkup.”

Eve frowns. “Again?”

“Yep. My ECG was a bit off last week. Probably nothing, but they’re checking me every fucking day. It’s so annoying, but if Jacob finds out I skipped, he won’t let me come for a week. I’ll die.”

I ignore that comment, tempted as I am to pry into it, because something just pricked my brain and I’m trying to catch it. I keep my voice neutral as I ask, “There’s a medical center here?”

Quinn grins. “Oh yeah. The fanciest one on the planet, and it’s all completely free. One of the benefits of being a sex slave.”

“Jesus! Quinn!”

I should ask why Quinn needs the ECG, or at least give some sign I'm still in this conversation, but the wispy memory thread just got stronger. My dad and Harrison, celebrating.

Right in the heart of the place. Fucking Medical.

It’s tenuous, but I clutch it. My family has spies everywhere. I try to remember more of the conversation, but at the time, I gave it zero thought. Could they have been talking about the Compound?

Only one way to find out.

Nineteen

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