Page 22 of Entangled

This new era of men to live in fear of.

At night, I’ve craved the distraction of Madison’s chattering fiercely.

This morning, Mateo gently unties my bandaged wrists and helps me to stand on my still-shaky legs. My hands are stiff, but the knots have been gentler these last few days, and the salve and bandages are slowly healing the abused flesh.

I am still far too weak.

“Okay, pretty lady?” Mateo smiles at me. He’s been friendly but distant while I’ve been helping Alastair.

And he is the one Sinner who hasn’t let me out of his annoyingly sharp sight.

I nod at him, but don’t smile back. As I sling my bag over my shoulder, I dart a look at Madison. Jaw set, she doesn’t look at me.

Mateo gestures for me to go ahead, but I hesitate, hating that she’s disappointed in me. Hating that I care.

“You know, the silent treatment is rather childish,” I burst out.

Madison’s face darkens, but she doesn’t say a word. She is even more busted and bruised than she was when I first saw her. As if to spite my compliance, her defiance has redoubled... and so have her beatings.

While I scurry about in the shadows, Madison fights back, every time. During her last outburst, Owen cracked her ribs, and she headbutted his nose. His bloodstained scream woke the whole camp, and I think he would have killed her had Alastair’s men not stepped in.

Again.

“Can you at leasttryto be sensible today?” I try again. I bite my lower lip between my teeth, and then add more softly, “I’m terrified for you.”

Madison turns her head away, hiding her face.

I swallow hard, and Mateo tugs at my elbow. “Come,chica, there’s no talking to her.” Mateo eyes her with a barely disguised dislike I wonder at. “Alastair spiked a fever last night. He needs you.”

Suppressing a sigh, I allow Mateo to lead me away. I’ve only made it a few steps when I hear Madison behind me.

“Alastair killed my Tommy.” Her voice isn’t angry or accusatory. But it has a heavy, heavy weight. “He shot him through the head the day we were captured.”

My steps falter, and I look back at her. Madison meets my eyes for the first time in two days. They’re as gray and laden as storm clouds on the brink of a tempest.

My heartaches. Aches at how both her heart and mine were ripped in two by these men. Two bloody, broken halves of a friendship pendant, struggling to cling to life.

I’m sliced apart for her, forme, but Mateo pulls me away again, and I stumble after him. I sense him examining my face, and it takes every effort to keep it composed.

God. I wish I knew if I could trust her. But myoneadvantage is that water hemlock. It’s the only chance we have.

And I honestly don’t know what she would do if I told her about it. If she would let it slip to the Sinners in a fit of temper. If she’d demand I use it immediately—or worse, try to steal it and come up with some half-thought-through plan herself. She’s impatient and hot tempered. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest.

Madison doesn’t understand. Submission isn’t the same as weakness.

Jasper taught me that.

No. It’s okay if she hates me for now. I’ll get vengeance for us both soon enough—and I will make sure she leaves this camp with me.

“You understand, don’t you? Alastair had no choice,” Mateo says carefully, watching me as we walk over to him. “Her man was dangerous. A threat to the Den.”

“I understand,” I reply automatically, even though I don’t.

Mateo feels ruthless, and though not exactly kind, he doesn’t seem evil. I don’t understand why he is caught up with these awful men.

As if sensing my thoughts, he catches my arm and pulls me to a stop. His voice lowers. “It would be very, very stupid to try to hurt him. I don’t want to have to kill you, pretty lady.”

The unspoken threat hangs in the air—But I will.

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