Page 45 of Monsters Like Us
I don’t flinch.
Finally, Vale rises, dragging the chair back against the wall with a screech. He doesn’t push further, which makes me wonder if he’s frustrated or simply playing a game.
He leaves, the lock sliding home behind him, his footsteps retreating until the house above swallows him whole.
The silence left behind isn’t empty. It’s thick, pulsing with everything unsaid.
Katana studies me, her hazel eyes wide and raw, still shimmering with the ghost of pain. For the first time since the machine, I see something steady in them. Maybe my silence—my refusal to give Vale scraps—steadies her too.
I lean back against the pipe, letting the cold bite into my skin, andmake my vow again.
Every flicker of light. Every scrape of a key. Every laugh they share. I’m memorizing it all.
And when this cage breaks, I’ll use it to end them.
CHAPTER 40
Katana
The scrapeof the lock jerks me awake.
Vale descends first, Corinne behind him, her scrubs neat, her bun tight, a syringe in her hand. For a heartbeat, I think they’re here for me again—until Vale’s eyes cut to Micah.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head.
Micah snarls the second Corinne stops just out of his reach, chains rattling so loudly they echo like gunfire. He jerks against the pipe, trying to shield me even when he’s restrained.
Vale only chuckles. “I’ve got him.”
Micah lashes out with his whole body—his wrists bleeding against iron, muscles corded and trembling—but Vale grips his jaw in one sharp motion, pinning his head back.
Corinne moves like a shadow, raising the syringe. “This won’t hurt much,” she croons. She slides the needle into his neck, depresses the plunger, and it’s over before he can spit another curse.
“Micah!” My scream tears my throat raw as his body seizes, then slackens. His breathing stays harsh, his eyes dark and alive, but his limbs sag uselessly against the pipe.
“Not a sedative,” Vale says cheerfully, as though giving me a lecture. “We wouldn’t want him to miss the fun.”
They unchain him easily now, dragging his half-dead weight toward the steel table. I thrash until my wrists tear open, screaming his name, shouting at them to stop. He’s still fighting—I can see it in his wild and murderous eyes—but his body betrays him, heavy and limp as Corinne straps him down.
By the time the leather buckles cinch tight, his fingers twitch again. The drug is wearing thin. Vale notices too and smirks. “Perfect timing.”
The machine hums to life. A faint buzz rises in the air, sharp as bees under glass. The bulb overhead flickers, dimming like it’s swallowing power. My heart pounds so hard I can’t hear anything else.
“So, tell me, little murderess.” Vale paces near me, his hands behind his back. “How long were you two fucking? Long enough for him to fall?” His grin cuts like a knife.
How the hell does he know the nickname Micah calls me?
I glare at him, stubbornly silent.
There’s a crackling sound, the sharp scent of ozone and hot metal, and the first shock tears through Micah. His body bows hard against the leather, his jaw clenches, but not a single sound leaves his mouth.
“Micah!” My own scream replaces his silence. I thrash against the bindings, sobbing and begging them to stop, the sight of his body jerking against the leather restraints carving me open.
Corinne’s voice is maddeningly calm: “Interesting. She feels it more than he does.”
Vale leans close to me, smiling like he’s solved an equation. “Exactly what I suspected. He bleeds, and you break.” His menacing chuckle fills the room. “Howlong have you been riding his dick?”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. The words are there, but they refuse to leave my mouth.
