Page 17 of Inside the Wicked

Kenna seems to have a venomous response lingering at the tip of her tongue, but she thinks better than to provoke him. We need him.

This night has gone to complete shit and I haven’t even finished my first martini. Thinking of it, I lift it from the table and finish it off in three gulps.

Silas says, “This is the most fun and intrigue I’ve had in years. And something tells me we’re just getting started.”

CHAPTER 6

Rhett

The meals I get are barely fit for a dog. Tonight is particularly foul, with mold growing on the bread and the beans dried up as if they were meant to be served days ago. I don’t even attempt to eat it though I’ve been without food for two days now.

It’s another attempt to keep me too weak to fight back even if the opportunity presents itself. They underestimate my will to stay alive and get my little bird back. If there was a moment I believed I could get out, I would push through the pain of broken bones to do it.

I never learned the fate of the boy, Jack. My instinct was right, and the gun fired empty on every spin of the revolver. Micah is deranged, but he’s no fool. Had there been one bullet in the chamber, he knows I would have used it on him even though it wouldn’t have granted me my way out. Theclickof the trigger was still enough to make the kid piss his pants, and Micah’s maniacal laughter at the sick show haunts me still.

I’m halfway to sleep when the sound of the door opening grates across my skin.

“I thought it was about time I come by myself, nephew.”

It’s been three months, and only now does Alistair fucking Lanshall pay a visit. His voice will never fail to tense my body ina reaction so specific to his presence. It’s like holding a double-ended knife. I want to let go of more than six years of brutal conditioning to submit to his voice, but I keep holding onto the blade, resisting, even if the will to take his life with the other end bleeds me dry.

“This is no way to greet your uncle. I taught you better.”

My back is still to him and I’m staring with such hatred into the stone wall. I listen to him walk in further, even picturing the sleek black polish of his shoes clacking slowly across the ground, the same fucking brand as twelve years ago.

One minute I’m focusing all my efforts on containing my impulsive anger, and the next I’m barely registering the shuffle of feet before I’m doused in ice water. It’s not just freezing; it fucking pierces my skin with a thousand deep needles that send my system into shock.

I don’t feel the broad, vicious brute of a man haul me up and slam me to the wall. I do feel the nasty punch he strikes across my face before I’m dropped, barely catching myself on my knees.

My mind travels elsewhere. It finds a light in all this darkness, the only thing guiding me through this hell. If I didn’t have Ana or the peace of the memories we made, I don’t think I’d have any will left to truly get out of this.

“You’re wasting your time,” I rasp, coming to, though I wish I weren’t when the awareness amplifies the beating pain of my jaw and head, along with the violent tremors I try to suppress. I watch the droplets of water fall from my hair to the ground.

“Look at me when you speak,” he orders, as cool and calm as ever.

If I don’t do as he wants, his guy will keep hitting. It takes everything in me not to lunge for Alistair’s throat when I look up.

It torments me to see him and to feel such loathing in my being. I was only ten when my parents died, but he looks somuch like my dad, who would have been horrified at what his brother became.

Alistair doesn’t look at me like a son; he assesses me like he would a case of rifles. Am I too damaged, too worn, too impractical now?

“Your network ... Xoid, is it? I’ll admit it’s an impressive setup, even if juvenile.”

“Many of your operations were stopped by it.”

“Yes, I’ve been keeping track of how much you owe me. I’m sure I’ll see it all back once I weed out everything you’ve planted.”

The threat to Xoid turns my blood molten. He’s trying to get under my skin, and I can’t allow that. He will feed on my anger and my protection of the people at Xoid.

Someone pulls up a chair, and Alistair retrieves a cigar before he sits. He lights it and leans back as if he’s lounging in the fucking sun.

“Did you know Forthson tried to get to you first?” he says casually, blowing out smoke that chokes the air. “He tried to get your little high-profile confidant too. Though it seems Alyra DeVerre is missing entirely now.”

My stomach sinks.Shit.Was Rix not able to trace her kidnappers? My jaw clenches so tight my teeth might break, because if she’s been missing all this time I’ve been captive ...

I have more determination than ever to get the fuck out of here.

“I find it all rather amusing, don’t you? Forthson thinks we’re equals in this underworld, but he’s nothing more than a child born with a dark heart and the kind of wealth that creates boredom. He’ll never know what it means to start from the fucking ground.”

---