Page 76 of Revenge & Ruin

“To…I won’t hurt her to get what I want.”

He gives me a hard look. “You know that getting what you want will hurt her.”

“I know.”

“I know you want revenge on Ida, but…” Rocco seems to struggle to find the right words. “If Isabella is…important to you. Maybe?—”

“No.”

“Teo.”

“It’s not my revenge. It’s my sister’s. And I will not rest until Ida is six feet under.”

Rocco gives me a sad look. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

20

ISABELLA

Twenty-four hours after I last saw Teo, I finally try to open the door. It’s locked, of course, but after last time, I know it would have been idiotic not to try.

Thirty hours after I last saw Teo, I wake up from a nap to find another tray of food has been placed by my bedside table. He always waits until I’m asleep, the coward.

Thirty-eight hours after I last saw Teo, I’m about ready to tear my hair out.

There is nothing in this room besides the medical equipment.

I’ve already read through my doctor's notes about fifteen times. I know exactly how much tranquilizer I took, how many seconds my heart stopped beating, and how long it will take me to recover.

Well, I’ve officially recovered as of this morning. Or evening. The clock on the wall gives no indication of a.m. or p.m., and there are no windows. There’s just plain grey walls and matching, freezing tiles on the floor.

A cell, for all intents and purposes. It doesn’t matter if I can craft a shiv from the needle that was once feeding me life-savingfluids. Unless someone opens that door, I’m not getting out of here.

Exercise is my only form of entertainment. I’ve sweated through my hospital gown a dozen times by hour forty-eight.

The small bathroom in the corner of the room, hidden by a plastic curtain, offers little relief. The sink is barely big enough to fit my entire hand, so despite my best efforts to bathe, my hair still clings to the back of my neck.

It’s hour fifty-two when the door finally opens while I’m awake.

Teo walks in looking unfairly fresh in a shirt and jacket, as if he’s just walked straight off a runway. It makes me want to irrationally cringe away from him, as if I should care about the stark difference between us.

“Isabella,” his voice is tight and formal. His hands are clasped behind his back as he comes to a stop a few feet away. This should be good.

“You finally deemed me worthy enough to visit, did you?”

He looks at me, at where I’m half crouched on the bed, and raises a bored eyebrow. “Shall we get this over with?”

My hand tightens around the shiv I have hidden under the blanket. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The part where you try to seduce me, only to put a blade against my neck,” he sighs. “You’re getting predictable.”

I scowl back. “I knew you were watching me. A little creepy, don’t you think?”

“Had to make sure you wouldn’t pull something stupid.”

“Like kidnapping me, you mean?”

“Like attempting to poison someone with an unknown substance.”

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