She smiled, and the anger drained from him at the sight of her awake, alive. He reached out to cup her cheek, still wondering if she’d disappear when he touched her. She didn’t.
“Hi,” she whispered, her face serious for once.
“Hi.” A deep frown etched into his brow as he pressed his lips to her forehead, only two words spinning in his head—Thank you, thank you, thank you.
“How do you feel?” he asked, pulling back.
“Fine. Good, actually. Kinda hungry.”
“Nothing hurts?”
“My legs are a little numb, but that’s ’cause you Neanderthal slept on top of me.” She made a face. “You just never change, do you?”
He chuckled, watching her wiggle her feet, warmth spreading in his chest for the first time in days. “How long have you been awake?”
“Just a few minutes. You smell like you robbed a whiskey factory.”
“It’s Marco,” Chad said, waving his hand.
“How long has it been? Not ten years or anything, I hope, ’cause you look kinda—”
“Six days. And don’t even try to joke about it. It was a miracle that brought you back, and Dave.”
“Dave? Okay, I need the whole story.” She pushed herself up on the pillow, getting comfortable, but Chad pulled away.
“I think you should speak to Doc first—he’s the one who knows the whole truth. Besides, I should go wake up Jane. We’ve all been going crazy here.”
“The whole truth? What do you mean?” The beeping sped up.
Pain reached out to him, but he just took her hand and gave it a quick kiss before stepping away. “I’ll get the nurse. Be back in ten.”
She scratched her back, her eyebrows rising even higher. “Hey, there’s no dressings.”
“I know. Don’t get up yet, okay?”
Satisfied that she lay back down, he darted into the nurses’ room.
* * *
The incessant buzzing of a phone on Peter’s nightstand pulled him out of his sleep. Even without opening his eyes he knew it was that phone. The emergency one.
He peeled one eye open, squinting at the screen—Skull. “What is it?” he answered the phone.
“We need you in the basement. Now.”
Peter’s heartbeat sped up, but he didn’t waste time on questions, saying only, “Two minutes.”
He glanced at the window, where the sun was barely peeking from the horizon. What was Skull doing at the cells so early?
The ground floor was deserted when he got down, his footsteps echoing in the wide space. The secret door gaped open. What the hell? Adrenaline spiked in his veins. This couldn’t be good.
The guard wasn’t in his place when Peter trotted down the stairs. The second door opened with a hiss, and the first thing he saw was Skull ducking out of an open cell door. Anxious voices reached Peter’s ears.
He bolted forward.
“What the hell happened?” he barked, only to halt and stare at the sight of Greg and another guard crouched over Victoria’s sprawled form.
Then he saw the blood.
Realizing at once what was going on, he darted inside the cell. Victoria was convulsing, the men trying to hold her still as they clutched at her bleeding wrists, but even so, the twin pools of blood at her sides were growing. Peter dropped to his knees and grabbed her arms, cutting off the blood’s flow.
Victoria’s dark eyes focused on him, wide, desperate, a moment before they rolled back and her body went limp.
Peter’s lungs seemed incapable of drawing breath. He staggered to all fours, eyes glued to Victoria’s pale face. A minute passed in stunned silence before he could inhale and straighten up.
Slowly, he turned to Greg. “How?” he uttered through his teeth.
The man dropped his gaze. “She had this little metal detail on her coat, and…” The rush of blood in Peter’s ears drowned out the rest as he found the object in the corner, splattered with blood.
The sleeves of Victoria’s black turtleneck were rolled up to her elbows, and two jagged cuts split her wrists.
Phoenix’s distant voice cut through Peter’s shock, “Peter, if I’d known, I never would’ve brought it up.”
“But how?” Peter asked again, turning to him. “How did she do this, with you and the cameras and…” he trailed off, cursing, and got up.
“She waited till I was asleep. I was only out for a couple hours. And the cameras, well, that corner with the toilet is a blind spot.”
“She planned this, Peter,” Greg quickly added. “She sharpened the… that thing on the floor, and then she did it pretty fast, because it was only about five minutes before I realized she’d been on the… in the corner for too long.” He gulped under Peter’s glare. “I ran straight here, but it happened too fast.”
Shaking his head, Peter wiped his palms on his sweater and walked out of the cell. The Beast across the corridor pressed his face to the bars, leering.
Peter pointed a finger at him. “Back the fuck off and don’t let me see your face again, or I’ll bash it in, and I’ll be damn glad to do it.”
It was Greg and Skull, not the Beast, who backed off first. Peter clenched his fists as the Beast sneered and stretched on the bunk, his face to the wall.
“I shouldn’t have left the damn coat in there,” Peter muttered. “Shouldn’t have put her in this cell.”
Skull snorted. “She would’ve found some other way then, probably drowned herself in the toilet. This is not your fault.”
“I don’t care whose fault this is. I’ve got a dead woman in my basement, and we’re still nowhere close to ending this.”
Phoenix peeked at him through the bars, leaning against the far wall.
“Get him out of the damn cell!” Peter snapped.
The guard hurried to unlock
