75

My heart slammed against my ribs, each beat like a warning drum. My stomach churned, hunger twisting with a deep, gnawing unease.

Joe’s voice grew quieter, more dangerous. “You stepped into a lion’s den thinking you were untouchable. Like the rules didn’t apply to you. But the thing about predators is—they don’t care what you think. You were meat the second you walked in, kid. And now…” He trailed off, letting the weight of his words hang heavy in the air.

My body tensed despite the exhaustion, my breaths coming short and fast. The room felt too small, the air too thin. My head thudded harder, each beat crashing in my ears, but I couldn’t stop staring at him. Couldn’t stop the fear crawling up my spine.

Joe smirked, his face half-hidden in the flickering light. “You think this is bad? You’re lucky you’re still breathing. That means you’ve got a chance. But out there?” He jerked his chin toward the unseen world beyond the walls. “They don’t give second chances. Vaughn doesn’t.”

The sound of Vaughn’s name slammed into me like a freight train, sending a violent shudder down my spine. My fingers twitched uncontrollably, nails scraping against the cold cement floor as panic took hold. My heart jackhammered against my ribcage, the pulsing so loud in my ears it felt like they’d explode. The food lay discarded near Joe’s boots, his expression twisting with something between disgust and amusement as he glanced at it.

I wanted to ask how he knew my favorite meal—how he could’ve possibly known something so specific, so personal—but the answer came before the words could leave my mouth. Vaughn. Of course, it was Vaughn. The man who had once been close to the family, close enough to know every secret, every fucking detail about our lives. Our habits, our fears, our weaknesses. The realization hit me like a sucker punch, and bile clawed its way up my throat.

Joe had to be working for him. There was no other explanation. The thought left me hollow and shaking. My chest constricted, my breathing turning erratic as I tried to hold back the tide of panic crashing through me. Joe didn’t seem interested in hurting me—not yet, anyway—but the way he looked at me made my skin crawl. His hooded eyes followed every small movement I made, his face shifting between shadow and light as the flickering overhead bulb painted his sharp features in a cruel, unsteady glow.

I wanted to fucking die. Right then and there. Anything would’ve been better than waiting for the inevitable, waiting for the cell door to screech open and Vaughn to stroll in like a goddamn predator. Knife in hand, smile carved into his face like he was the devil himself. I could already imagine the blade glinting in the shitty fluorescent light, could feel the sharp edge biting into my skin as he whispered sweet poison into my ear. He wouldn’t just kill me—no, that bastard would take his time. He’d strip me of every last shred of humanity, carve his initials into my flesh, laugh as I screamed and begged and cried.

And Joe? That son of a bitch would stand there, leaning against the wall with that smug fucking smirk, watching it all go down like it was just another Tuesday.

I swallowed back the scream clawing its way up my throat as Joe crouched lower, his shadow falling over me like a suffocating blanket. My breath hitched when his hand moved, slow and deliberate, brushing strands of hair away from my sweat-drenched face. His touch was deceptively gentle, but it felt wrong—so fucking wrong—like a snake coiling around its prey.

“You know,” Joe began, his voice quiet, almost conversational, “Vaughn’s been real fucking nice to you.”

I froze, my heart slamming harder against my ribs.

Joe tilted his head, a dark grin curling on his lips. “You think this is bad? You think this is suffering?” His voice dipped lower, almost mocking. “He’s been holding back. That’s what you don’t get. Vaughn’s the kind of guy who likes to play with his food. He’s given you all a head start, a fighting chance. That’s his version of nice.”

My stomach churned violently, and I felt the bile rise higher.

Joe leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper. “But don’t mistake that for mercy. He doesn’t have a shred of it. The second he’s done playing, he’s going to rip you apart. Piece by piece. Like a lion tearing into a rabbit—slow, methodical, just enough to keep you alive while he savors every fucking second.”

I stared at him, my chest heaving, the words sinking in like poison.

“He’s let you think you’re smart, that you can run, hide, maybe even fight back. But he’s just been watching, waiting. That’s what predators do, sweetheart. They let the prey tire itself out before they move in for the kill.” Joe’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. “And when he finally decides to stop being nice?” He chuckled low and cold. “You’ll wish he’d killed you from the start.”

My throat felt like sandpaper as I opened my mouth, the words clawing their way out in a hoarse whisper. "Why?" I choked, barely audible over the roaring in my ears. "Why is Vaughn so fucking bent on killing us? We didn’t do anything to him." My voice cracked, a pitiful whimper more than anything, and I hated myself for sounding so weak in front of this bastard.

Joe tilted his head, his face suddenly pensive. For a moment, it looked like he was genuinely contemplating the question, as though he were deciding whether I even deserved an answer.

Finally, he shrugged, his nonchalant demeanor a slap to my face. “That,” he said, dragging out the words as if savoring them, “is between you and him. When he decides it’s time for you to know, trust me, you’ll fucking find out.”

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, hard enough to taste blood, fighting the swell of panic rising in my chest. My hands twitched uselessly against the cold cement floor, and before I could process his words, Joe moved.

Like I was some goddamn stray animal, he pushed the food toward me with the tip of his boot. The scent of it hit me immediately—a dish so specific, so personal, it might as well have been carved out of my fucking soul. For a second, I hesitated.

Then instinct kicked in, primal hunger overriding the storm in my head. I scrambled forward, my body quivering with weakness as I reached for the plate.

Just as my fingers brushed the edge of it, Joe tutted loudly, and I froze, but only for a split second. My stomach gnawed at itself, the hunger like knives, and I shoved the food into my mouth, cramming handfuls so fast I didn’t even chew properly. Chunks flew from my mouth as I scarfed it down like a wild animal, desperate, messy, disgusting.

Joe’s laugh was cold, sharp. “Fucking pathetic,” he spat, watching me like I was the lowest form of life imaginable. “Look at you. Scarfing that down like you’ve never eaten a goddamn meal in your life.”

I didn’t care. His words barely registered. The food was all that mattered, each mouthful barely swallowing before I crammed in the next. My throat ached, and my stomach churned from the sudden rush of it, but I kept going until the plate was wiped clean, my breathing ragged, pieces of food smeared on my face and hands.

I was licking my fingers when I noticed Joe crouch down again. He moved deliberately, slowly pulling a thin chain from around his neck. Dangling from it was a key. My heart stuttered, my breath caught in my chest as he slid it across the floor toward me.

It skidded to a stop inches from my hand, and I stared at it, frozen, my brain struggling to catch up.

“Vaughn’s still interested in the chase,” Joe said, his voice low and steady. “And he doesn’t want you rotting in here, not yet. He wants you out there, running.”

I stared at him, my chest heaving, the words not making sense. My hands were still trembling as I looked at the key, then back at Joe. “What the fuck is this?” I croaked, my voice raw.

Joe’s grin was sharp and humorless. “You want to save your brother, don’t you? Clock’s ticking, sweetheart.”

My heart was slamming against my ribs now, panic and disbelief twisting together.

“I’ve disabled the CCTV,” he continued, his tone almost casual, as if he were explaining the goddamn weather. “But it’s gotta look real. So here’s how it’s going to go. I’ll shoot myself, make it look like you attacked me. Tim and Tams are the only ones on duty right now, so I’ll take them out too. That way, the story sticks. You get out, I get to tell the others you’re a crazy bitch who lost it.”

My eyes widened, my head shaking in disbelief, mid-chew as the taste of the food turned to ash in my mouth. “You’re fucking insane,” I muttered, my voice barely audible.

Joe leaned closer, his expression unflinching. “Count to ten. The third gunshot? That’s your cue. Sprint like your life depends on it, because trust me, it does.”

I stared at him, my body frozen in place, a mix of horror and disbelief pounding through my skull.

“You think I’m fucking joking?” Joe sneered, his voice sharp now, venomous. “You want to save Dane? Then grow some goddamn balls and move when I tell you to.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My brain was a mess of static, my stomach churning, my body quivering from the rush of fear and adrenaline.

Joe stood, his movements deliberate, his boots heavy against the floor. “Don’t fuck this up,” he said, and there was something almost amused in his voice, like he was daring me to fail.

And then he walked away, leaving me alone with the key, the plan, and the sound of my own ragged breathing echoing in the empty room.