Prisoner (Criminals & Captives #1)(63)

I whisper, “You don’t know what it’s like when she’s yours, and you would do goddamn motherf*cking anything for her.”

I know he’s imagined it. What it would be like. “That’s why I have to kill her,” he says, breath hot on my lips.

“All the girls I ever had, f*cking one-night stands in some shit bathroom and wherever. It’s nothing compared to—” I gesture in her direction. “That’s black-and-white, and this shit is color. When you find somebody and you know.”

“Don’t.”

“When you know she’s yours, Stone…all yours.”

He’s gone still, cradling my neck, gun in hand. He doesn’t want to hear this, yet he really, really does. I know what I’m doing is unfair, like describing a shot of nice scotch to an alcoholic who’s denied himself for years, but he needs to know.

“Every time I thought of killing her or letting her go, I couldn’t because it feels so f*cking right. And when the governor’s guy tried to take her down? I would’ve died to stop that. And when she’s hungry or cold—”

“Stop it,” Stone says. He’s the strong one. He always has been. Like his name.

Unbreakable.

“When she’s cold, I’m the one who warms her. And when she’s hungry? We were at Nate’s, and I had her blindfolded, and I was feeding her blueberries, picking out the best ones and…you don’t know what it’s like—”

“Yes, I do.”

“It’s not like with them. What we did—”

He gives me a dark look. That’s another thing we’re not supposed to do, talk about the bloody day we rose up against our captors. The savagery of that. “It’s just like them,” he says. “You think it’s different because you don’t keep her chained in a basement?”

“It’s different.”

“I’m killing her for you. It’s the most humane thing.”

“Remember when you did that carjack?” I ask. He’s done a million carjacks, but only one matters and he knows it. The one where the hot blonde didn’t get out fast enough for him, and he kept her captive long enough to drive her an hour out of town to meet Calder.

I knew what it was from the way he talked about it afterward. He didn’t touch her, but he wouldn’t let her go. He fed her, cared for her. “How did it feel?”

“Fuck you.”

I press. “How did it feel?”

He waits so long I think he won’t answer. And then he lowers the gun. “You know how it feels,” he whispers finally. Good, that’s how it feels.

“And that was just you taking her for a drive,” I say.

“Fuck. Grayson—”

“We’re not like them. She saved my life, right? It shows I’m not like them. I never would’ve saved any one of them.”

“Jesus. Fuck!” He lets go of my neck and scrubs a hand over his face. “She has to die. Wake her up and say goodbye.” He fingers his nine. I didn’t think this through, how much he’d need to kill her, like the alcoholic needing to pour the bottle down the sink. Needing to set it on fire and watch it burn. Still so f*cked up over what those *s did to us.

Whatever drugs Nate gave me are dragging me under and I don’t know if I can stay awake much longer. “Don’t do this, Stone. Don’t let them win.”

“Don’t let them win? Is that what you just said? Fuck you.” He presses the side of the gun to his forehead and closes his eyes. “I just need to kill her. Everything will go back to the way it was when she’s dead.”

I reach out and grab his arm. “Come here.”

He sucks in a breath, but he needs to see I’m not so far gone. He needs to see I’m still me even if I have her too.

“They’re not winning,” I say. “They’re motherf*cking dead.” I move over and make room for him even though it hurts like hell. “Come here.”

He collapses next to me. He’s always been there when I’ve needed him. We’re always there for each other; it’s our code.

I snake a hand under his shirt and flatten my palm onto his chest, the way we used to do, feeling each other’s heartbeat, like this stupid shred of humanity we gave each other, there in the basement. We didn’t know how to act regular down there. Everything cramped and close and weirdly sexual even when it shouldn’t have been.

Holding on to him hurts like hell, but this is for Abby. “Tell me about the plans. I want to know what they are now. If you changed them.”

“I know what you’re doing,” Stone says. “Distracting me won’t work.”

But actually it will. Some kids got comfort food or a special toy when they were upset, or the loving arms of a parent. All we ever got was each other, and talking about what we’d do to the guy in charge if we ever got our hands on him. We knew early on that our captors were working for somebody. Lying together and talking about the ways we’d torture and kill him was like a teddy bear to normal kids. “Does Calder still get to scoop out his eyes?”

“No, he changed his mind while you were inside. He gets to gut him.”

“Who does the governor’s eyes?”

“Nobody. We decided we want him to see all the way through, because we’re making him watch the films they made of us while we f*ck him up. Also, Nate said that could kill him too fast if we scooped his eyes too enthusiastically.”