Page 23 of Dark OZ

Iwokethenextmorning to the disorienting darkness of Crowe’s basement. The only light in the room was the pale green glow of a button on the intercom panel next to the door. There wasn’t even a bedstand clock. Putting my hand to my head, I willed my swimming mind to find the surface. Every inch of my body ached. The throbbing heat radiating from my back was intense enough that I was surprised I hadn’t scorched the sheets.

Sitting up, the soft bedding slipped from where it’d been draped over my body. Cool air caressed the very naked skin of my chest. With the pebbling of my skin came the flood of memories— Crowe’s hands holding me in place and the tender look in his eyes as he kept me steady through the pain. The way Nick’s rough palm pressed my shoulders into the mattress when I involuntarily bucked back against him, or how he would soothingly speak in that beautiful language while I fought past the tears.

As my reality came crashing back, I swallowed down the panic. Danny insisted that I was a hostage until he got his payout, but it also meant he needed to keep me safe until then. I just had to keep telling myself it could be a lot worse. I could be trapped in Eastin’s clutches, powerless against whatever demented way she’d planned to kill me.

Scanning the darkness, I looked for signs of Crowe. A tinge of disappointment ricocheted unexpectedly through me when I realized I was alone in the dark. I didn’t know what to make of that. Did I really want Crowe’s blue eyes staring back at me when I awoke? Had that one adrenaline-fueled ride out of town and night of pain really changed me so much? It didn’t matter.

He left me to rest for however long I had been down here. Without windows or a clock, it was impossible to determine how long I’d been unconscious.

I fumbled around the side of the bed until I found the nightstand with the lamp. I clicked it on and breathed a long sigh of relief. My anxiety immediately recoiled now that I wasn’t suffocating on darkness.

My body was wrecked. There were streaks of something orange around the gauze. The adhesive edge of each itched and pulled at my skin. The bandage at the center of me covered most of my back, but of course, when they bound my ribs, they avoided all the important parts. I tried not to think too hard about what wrapping me had entailed.

On a chair next to the bed was a pair of boxer shorts and a T-shirt. They were huge, but the idea of putting anything form-fitting on made me wince. Not to mention the fact that three bachelor men probably didn’t stock much from the women’s department. Still, after the past few days, it felt like true kindness.

What I really wanted was a shower. Even with the quick wash-up I’d done the night before, it felt like I was covered in a lifetime’s worth of grime. My skin still prickled with Eastin’s touch and Henry’s abuse. I could smell the desperation leaking from my pores, and I hated it.

I hobbled my way from the bedroom into the ample bathroom. The shower was large enough to house a small city of people, with heads pointing in all directions. The idea of standing beneath that spray was enough to make me moan.

I flinched when I finally met my reflection. The girl in the mirror looked more like a discarded rag doll and less like the woman who would crush Em’s empire beneath her heel. Because when the Wizard took Em’s money, I would make sure he did more than bankrupt her. I would have him burn every connection, eliminate every ally, and bury her in enough evidence that the authorities would have no choice but to lock her up and throw away the key. I would get justice for all the lives she’d ruined on her path to the top, starting with my parents.

Running my hands over the ends of the bandage, I twisted to try and look in the mirror. There were fasteners holding it together along my spine. I bent my arms behind me as best I could, but my flexibility was shot. Every movement pulled on something it shouldn’t, making it nearly impossible to reach the ends. Meaning there would be no way for me to bathe myself without soaking the entire dressing. I didn’t know much about triage or wound care, but I was certain you weren’t supposed to soak your bandages.

I let out a scream of frustration, throwing the few things on the counter at the far wall. The soap dish and lotion clattered to the floor in an unceremonious cacophony that echoed around the room. It wasn’t enough that Em had conspired against my parents, locked me away for my entire life, taken my inheritance, and sold my freedom to a sadist. Now, I couldn’t even bathe myself. I felt helpless. The feeling was so potent it made me nauseous.

“Problems?” Crowe’s playful voice cut through the silent bathroom, making me jump, while he leaned in the doorway like it was your average Sunday morning.

I grabbed the towel on the rack, pulling it across my chest. Not that it mattered. There wasn’t anything in this bathroom he hadn’t seen plenty of last night. “No. I’m managing just fine.”

Beneath his cavalier smile, Crowe sipped at a mug of coffee. Its rich scent floated to me, making my stomach flip and audibly gurgle. His brows lifted in surprise.

“Do you want some? Nick made it, so it’s actually delicious.” He held out the mug to me. “Consider it a peace offering.”

“Were we at war?” I asked, taking the mug from him. I took a long sip and melted on the spot. A loud groan of pleasure slipped from me. It was rich, the splash of milk making it a shade lighter than chocolate. It wasn’t even too sweet. People were always ruining good coffee by making it sweet.

“No, but I’d very much like to be your… ally.” Crowe pushed himself onto the counter, sliding down so he was in front of me. Before I knew what he was doing, his hands were on my hips, and I was trapped in the cage of his legs. He was careful not to brush the back of mine as he pinned me in place. There was something warming in that he was still taking care of me, even amidst the guise of being playful and carefree.

“Now what, pretty girl—” He pushed my hair over my shoulder and began tracing the exposed line of my collar with his index finger. “—could the soap dish have done to make you punish it so?”

I narrowed my eyes on him, snatching the wandering hand and biting down on his finger. Hard.

“Ow.” He sucked at the raw spot I left behind. “The hell was that for?” He sounded offended, but the mirth hadn’t left his eyes.

I shrugged the same shoulder he had just been caressing. “Maybe I don’t like—” My hand came up suddenly to my throat. Whatever I was about to say was lost the moment I noticed the absent weight of the emerald. Crowe noticed it too, already raising his hands in defense.

“Stay calm, Thea. The necklace is upstairs. We had to take it off last night, is all. Danny put it in the safe.”

“The safe? I suppose that was for my own good, for safekeeping?”

“That is generally what safes are for.”

“And it has nothing to do with Danny wanting to leverage the emerald with the Wizard formymoney. That was the one thing I had to bargain with.”

“Well… there is that.”

“And now that gives him…you, one more way to control me. Ugh.” I growled and slapped hard at his chest, trying to push out of the vice-like grip of his thighs. “Let go of me. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to trust you. Even after I promised myself I wouldn’t.”

“Darling Thea, I never pretended you could trust me. I said you were safe with me. Those two aren’t the same thing. So long as you had that stone around your neck, you were a walking homing signal. The vault will block the beacon. You wanted me to keep you safe, and that is exactly what I’m doing. You’re going to need to wise up to the fact that with safety comes a loss of some of that freedom. Temporarily, at least. Danny won’t want to keep you forever.”

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