Page 65 of Reckless
“Under different circumstances,” he pants, “I promise you I’m much more fun tied up.”
My cheeks flush as I roll my eyes, fully knowing he can’t see them. “Not. Helping.” I feel his back shake with laughter. Ignoring him, I plant my feet, preparing myself. “Okay, let’s try this again,” I breathe before pushing against his back to try to get my feet under me.
“There you go, Gray,” he murmurs. “Come on, just a little more.”
My legs are shaking as they strain to stand with him. This is far from our first try, making me both tired and frustrated all at once. Standing to my feet has never been such a challenge. I push against his back, inching my feet beneath me to ungracefully stand on the cold prison floor.
“It’s about damn time,” the bastard sighs. “Now for the fun part.”
I glance at the jagged stone jutting out from the wall, nearly fourfeet off the ground. He takes a step toward it, yanking me behind him in turn. “Ow,” I hiss. “A warning next time would be nice.”
“Fine,” he says stiffly. “I’m walking to the stone now.”
And with that, he all but drags me as I trip backward toward the wall. I huff when my feet are finally planted on the floor again, wishing he could see the glare I’m wearing. Then he’s lifting our hands, guiding the rope to rest on the sharp stone.
My arms are pulled behind my back, bent at an uncomfortable angle. And it only gets worse when he begins sawing the rope against the stone. Back and forth. Back and forth. I hang my head toward the floor, watching my hair fall into a messy halo around my face.
“You all right back there, Gray?”
“Oh, I’m just great,” I say, my voice muffled with hair. “My neck has never felt better.”
I can hear the sound of rope rubbing against stone, feel Kai doing most of the work. “How about we play a game? To take your mind off things.”
My head shoots up at his offer. It’s startling—him caring. Didn’t he vow to never do that again?
The Enforcer orders me a step closer to the stone.
But this isn’t caring, is it? No, he’s using me to escape and save his reputation. I’m a means to an end.
“All right,” he sighs, still sawing at the rope. “I’m seeing something gray. Guess what it is.”
I snort. “Everything in this Plague-forsaken place is gray.”
“Well, then, you’d better be specific.”
I sigh through my nose. “Okay. The wall.”
“Guess again.”
“The bars?”
He tugs at the rope, testing its strength. “Wrong again.”
“The ceiling?”
“You’re not very good at this—”
Echoing footsteps cut off his words. This time I’m silently tugging him back to our spot on the floor where I all but fall, pulling him down with me. The guard rounds the corner into the eerily empty hallway, stopping only to fish a key from his pocket. He doesn’t look at us as he steps inside and places a metal bowl of water beside the barely touched stale bread.
It’s a struggle to stifle my scoff. We’re expected to lap up the water like dogs. Further proof of their hatred for us Ilyans.
The door locks behind him with a heavy click, and I watch his shadow slither down the length of the hallway. We are quiet for a long moment before I feel Kai’s hand pat my lower back in silent command. I take a deep breath, preparing myself before struggling to my feet.
Then it’s back to the stone and tedious sawing. I hang my head again, resting my sore neck as I mumble, “The tray.”
“That’s more silver.”
I frown. “What about my hair, then?”
