Page 21 of Pretty Wicked Secrets

Opening my mouth and having him place the delicious food he cooked carefully on my tongue. Holding eye contact while I close my lips around the fork. The way he takes care to pull it out of my mouth slowly, so he doesn’t hurt me.

He brings another bite to my mouth.

I take it, but pull my hands as far apart as they’ll go, needing to feel the metal cuffs bite into my wrists. Needing the reminder that I’m a prisoner here now.

Logan’s careful attention doesn’t mean shit. He’s just trying to keep me “alive and functional,” and even that is only on Maddoc’s orders.

“Did you know?” I blurt out between bites, needing to distract myself from the effect all this focused intensity is having on me.

Logan pauses, the fork halfway to my mouth.

“About Chloe,” I add, my throat suddenly tight. “Did you know about Maddoc’s plan to… use her?”

Logan blinks. “Yes.”

He pushes the fork toward me, and I flinch, then square my shoulders and glare at him.

He lays the fork down on the plate.

Yeah? Well, fuck him. I don’t need his food, and I’m not even surprised he’s in on whatever it is they’re planning for my sister. He’s probably the one who came up with it in the first place.

Logan is giving me that puzzle-look again, and I swallow and glance away to try to hide how much that hurts from him. Stupid, since of all of them, he’s the one least likely to have even thought twice about betraying me.

But when I look back and meet his eyes again, I’m the one who has to blink.

Logan actually has an expression on his face this time, one that looks an awful lot like regret. But then he catches me watching and it’s gone so fast I’m sure it’s just another thing I imagined.

“Tell me what you want her for,” I beg, my voice cracking.

The plate is only half empty, but Logan stands abruptly, his posture stiff and movements jerky, and takes it to the sink. “You need to go back to your room.”

I glare at his back, but then notice something glinting on the counter, tucked under the edge of the fruit bowl there. Shiny. Metallic. Probably a piece of something or other that broke during my struggle with Maddoc earlier.

It’s hard to believe that an obsessive clean freak like Logan missed something like that, and even harder to convince myself I’ll be able to do anything with the tiny little shard, but I need any advantage I can get.

I hold my breath and reach out with my cuffed hands, snatching it up as quietly as I can. I half expect Logan to whirl around and catch me at any moment, but he doesn’t.

It’s a piece of wire. I’ve got no idea what it’s from, but I quickly tuck it into my cleavage, ignoring the sharp prick as I shove it out of sight a moment before he turns back to face me.

Logan is scarily observant and always three steps ahead of everyone else, and my heart starts to pound as his light blue eyes meet mine. But maybe he’s feeling just as off kilter as I am, because he doesn’t call me out. Doesn’t shove his hand between my breasts and fish out the tiny piece of broken wire. In fact, he doesn’t say a single goddamn word to me. Just wraps my arm in an iron grip and hauls me to my feet, then leads me back upstairs to my room.

I don’t resist. That will come later. A broken piece of wire may not be much to work with, but I’ll take what I can get and run with it. Run all the fucking way out of here.

And never look back.

6

MADDOC

“…allthe way down to State and 26th,” the kid in front of me says as he finishes his report, flinging a hand out to point toward the part of town he’s describing, as laid out on the map pinned to my office wall.

“Watch it, Levi,” Payton snaps, dodging back when he almost smacks her in the face.

Levi’s face turns a shade of red that tells me he’s thinking with his dick, and he mumbles an apology as he drops his hand and scoots out of her way.

Isaac, the third Reaper I called in to report on the search for Chloe, smirks at him, then catches my scowl and straightens up. “No sign of her in the warehouse district either, boss,” he says.

“You tapped your contact with Mathis over there?” I ask, frustrated with his answer even though it doesn’t surprise me.

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