Page 45 of Dark Ink

“Okay.” I don’t remember anything between falling to my back in the parking lot and waking up to Ben’s face inches from mine. The feel of his hand on my breast is super vivid, though.

“Let me fill you in.” Ben paces around the small space as he tells me how he avoided being drugged and the conversation between the two men that took us all down. He avoids the puddle, stepping over it like a crane with his long legs.

“What a minute. You said one of them had a tattoo?” A shiver runs through me. It can’t be.

“Yes, two crossed stylized arrows.”

“Fuck.” I slam my fist on one of the shelves. It rattles under the force of the blow.

Itrattles.

An idea makes my brain short-circuit. I look under the shelf. Loose screws. Perfect. I use the end of my underwire to unscrew one of them.

“Why are you removing the shelves?” Ben asks.

“Weapons,” I reply. “We need to get out of there and catch up with Duke Hazelton. Sophie and I have unfinished business with him. I think it will be great if I can bash his head in with a shelf.”

“It might not be him,” Ben says. “I didn’t see his face.”

“It’s him. His slimy voice was so familiar.”

Duke Hazelton was a Lavender nightmare client and someone who assaulted most of the girls in the club. A few months ago, Sophie suffered in his hands too, despite my trying to protect her, so she has beef with him. I would love to bring him to her so she can snap his disgusting neck. Or if that’s not possible, a shelf trauma to the skull will do, too.

“Okay. Do you have another one of those?” Ben points to the underwire that I’m gripping with a white-knuckled fist while I jam it in the second screw and turn it.

“Take this one.” I hand him the metal piece.

“It’s warm.” He chuckles.

“Only the best for you.” I wink, plunging my hands into my bra again.

Ben can’t look away and his heated gaze makes wetness pool in my panties. If it wasn’t for Jenya, and Koschei, and Hazelton, I perhaps wouldn’t have been in such a rush to escape. Being locked in with Ben might be just the thing we need to sort out our shit. He can’t run away like this, after all.

I take out my other underwire and get to work. As we concentrate on getting the lowest shelf removed, my thoughts swirl around a strange feeling.

I’ve forgiven Ben. I’ve forgiven him and I like him again.

When did it happen? Will it last? The fact that he’s with me in this little room, with no escape and no way to avoid me, puts me at ease. It’s an embarrassing realization.

It’s not like I want to control him. I only want to know that he won’t abandon me again.

“After we get out, what are you going to do?” I ask quietly, afraid to hear the answer.

“We assess the situation and call for backup. Save Jenya. Capture bad guys. Explode this place. Any of those in no particular order?”

“I would prefer we didn’t blow up everything before getting Jenya and making sure Koschei is actually dead this time.”

“We don’t know if she’s here or if he’s here. We—”

“We don’t know if she wants to stay. Maybe she doesn’t need saving.” The screw I’ve been sweating over pops out and I sigh, rubbing my shoulders. “It didn’t sound like she wanted to stay away from the cult. She’s been programmed a certain way, and if Koschei offers her safety, she will probably take it.”

“You have very little faith in her. I thought you like her now.”

“I understand her. If someone had offered me to go back to my previous life right after I had escaped the cult, I would’ve said yes.” I don’t want to talk about this anymore, so I give the now-loose shelf a good tug, and it comes off in a tiny cloud of dust. “That’s one weapon down. Let’s do the other one.”

We remove the second shelf faster, in uncomfortable silence. I feel like Ben wants to ask me something but doesn’t dare, and his pointed lack of words grates on my nerves.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, just spit it out.” I groan after the quietness stretches too long and one of my screws refuses to move.

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