Page 44 of One Way Out

The one small regret is not being able to soothe Saylor with either my pheromones or by purring.

Bringing my hand to her cheek, I slide my fingers into her hair and tenderly massage her scalp. “Just try to get some rest. You’re still dealing with the effects of the suppressants and a pretty high fever.”

Valor’s eyes meet mine, and I give him a tight smile. Things do look bleak, but I’m not one to give up—not without a fight—and he isn’t either.

We’ll figure this out one step of the plan at a time.

ChapterFifteen

Leo

The guard behind me slams my face into the wall, grinding my cheek into the brick. If Shaw would stop talking shit, they’d probably be a lot less aggressive, but I get it. He’s panicking, and that always makes him more antagonistic.

My forehead bounces against the wall as the guy wraps his hand in my hair, giving me another strong shove. His free hand forces my fingers at an angle toward my lower back, and I hiss as pain radiates up my arm. He has to have some type of military or police training.

That, or prison guard syndrome.

I’ve met some decent correctional officers in my time, and I’ve met some with a superiority complex. It’s really the luck of the draw on who you interact with.

We’ve got no chance to fight back. They’re in full riot gear, minus the shields, and at this point, it’s better to peacefully see what comes next.

My partner obviously doesn’t agree.

Shaw growls, and there’s commotion from behind me, but I can’t see anything with the way my head is twisted.

“Chill out,” I hiss. “Fighting isn’t going to do anything but cause us more problems.”

“This is fucking bullshit,” he snarls. “Like this place really gives a shit what happens once the prisoners are released. It should be up to us who we want to bond.”

“Tough shit,” one of the guards says, sounding amused. “You all think you’re special. Entitled children who act like we should take your feelings into account. You might be important to whoever paid for your stay, but once you’re inside the facility, you’re just another number.”

The guard shoving me to the wall lets off his hold and tugs me back by my cuffs. He drags me to an open doorway and into an interrogation room. There are two chairs on our side of a long thin table and places for our cuffs to be locked in.

Jesus Christ.

What the hell are they up to now?

* * *

Shaw struggles against his cuffs, huffing so loudly the sound echoes around the bare room. They might be punishing us for his bad attitude, or they might be trying to determine which block to move us to, but we’ve been in this room for at least an hour, maybe two.

It’s a good thing I don’t need to piss, because I’ve already scoped out the room. There are no visible cameras to stare at to appeal for a bathroom break. That doesn’t necessarily mean there are no audio or visual recording devices.

Shaw and I didn’t even have to discuss it to mutually decide to treat this like being detained behind enemy lines.

That means no communication.

Not even chitchat.

Time passes exceptionally slowly, to the point I have plenty of opportunities to think through all the mistakes I’ve made in life. I’ve got so many regrets with how we handled things with Saylor that it’s hard to know heads from tails. And at the same time, I don’t think I would have respected myself if I didn’t see myself out of her life to give her a chance to spread her wings. Only, we came in here and managed to make a whole new slew of mistakes.

The door slams open.

My head whips up, but I catch sight of Shaw before I make out who’s coming into the room. His jaw tightens, and I twist even farther in my seat.

McCabe closes the door loudly and strides across the room. He heads to a panel on the opposite wall and shoves his key card into the device. When we were placed in here, I assumed the keypad next to the doorway was to unlock that door that leads to God knows where, but he types in a six- or eight-digit numerical code and glances around the room.

I find myself doing the same, but there are no lights that indicate camera feeds. I know because I checked at length earlier. There’s no way to be sure, but my gut says he just cut the security feeds.

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