His grin widens, and his voice drops to a near whisper. “Drew didn’t think so, though, did he?”

My heart pounds so hard that it might as well stop. The air leaves my lungs.

“Shame he had to learn the hard way.”

His words hit me like a physical blow. It might as well be a punch to the gut and a vice grip around my ribs, squeezing tighter and tighter until I can’t breathe. His words wrap around me like chains, dragging me back to that night. The fire. The screams. The drop of blood at the corner of his mouth when he looks at me one last time.

My lungs struggle to expand, and I wheeze, trying to get air while I fight to keep the tears from spilling over. He doesn’t say it outright, because he doesn’t need to. He knows clear as day that I understand. I was there. I saw what he did to Drew when he dared to defy him.

“Leave her alone.” Damon’s voice is low and dangerous. Metal clanks when he grips the bars of his cell.

The dreg, Eugene, turns toward him with a raised brow. “Oh, you’ve got yourself a protector now, huh?” His smirk sharpens into cruel amusement. “Cute. I know exactly how to deal with those.”

I press harder against the wall, trying to stay small. Invisible. The last thing I want is for Damon, or anyone, to get hurt because of me.

Not again.

“Hey,” the second dreg pipes up in a bored tone. He flicks a glance at me, then points with a lazy finger as though the motion is too much for him. “She’s dripping blood all over the place. Boss won’t like it if she croaks too soon.”

The bruised dreg chuckles. “Good point. Don’t want her falling apart before we get what we need.”

Eugene looks angry. Not at me, but at them. “I’m the boss now, and I’m the one who gets any say in what happens to her.”

Confused, I look down. Blood. I turn my hand over and see it’s coming from where Benji took out the glass shard. The wound must have opened back up when I dripped the bars too hard. Another drop falls to the floor.

“What about?—”

“Me. We’ve been over this.” Eugene shuts up the lazy one, but I don’t care. My stomach churns. I keep my expression blank, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction, especially when the bruised one doesn’t stop leering at me.

“We’ll send someone along to fix you up,” Eugene says, his smirk returning. “Can’t have you breaking on me, now, can we?”

“Can I fix her up?” the bruised one adds.

“No, Greg,” Eugene snaps. “I thought I was going to punish them for what they did to you, but now I see you deserved it for what you tried to do to what’s mine.”

“But—”

“Get out of here before I lock you inside the cell with him.”

The three of them turn to leave, but the bruised one, Greg, hangs back for a moment and looks over his shoulder at me to whisper low enough that Eugene can’t hear. “Don’t go anywhere. We’ll be back.”

They leave a suffocating silence in their wake, but it’s nothing compared to the pounding in my ears and blurry vision that I have going on right now.

“Zoey.” Damon’s voice is sharp enough to cut through the haze of fear clouding my mind.

I don’t move, and I don’t respond. Instead, I stay pressedagainst the wall, trembling, trying to hold myself together, even as I unravel piece by piece.

“Zoey, talk to me,” he tries again, his voice gentler now but with an edge of desperation. The metal bars clang when he grips them. I feel his stare burning into me, but I don’t look over at the darkness that envelops him. “Who was that?”

My throat is too tight. I shake my head and croak out, “No one.”

“Don’t give me that,” he snaps, and his frustration boils over. “You were fine until he showed up. What did he do to you?”

I let out a hollow laugh. “Fine is subjective,” I croak out. Then I whisper, my voice barely audible. “He didn’t do anything to me.”

“Bullshit.” Damon slams a hand against the bars, and I flinch. His boots scrape against the concrete as he takes a step back. “How can I help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on?”

I shake my head. “I don’t need your help.” My voice is smaller now, breaking apart at the edges. “None of you should help me. It’ll only get you killed, too.”