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A weak chuckle slips past his lips. “Are you sure about that? I know what your screams sound like—I’d say that makes us close enough for me to consider you one.”
“Consider whatever the fuck you want. Just keep quiet.”
“No need to get snippy with me.” Another chuckle. “I’ve been down here a while... and dying for some titillating conversation. Carl isn’t much of a talker—I’m not sure if you’ve noticed.”
“Who the fuck says titillating?” I cough, and blood splatters down my chest.
The ghost on the wall raises his head to give me a smirk. “People with brains. People with class.”
“And I assume you want me to believe you’re one of those?”
He shrugs. “The former, at the very least. How else would I know your father is the one dishing out your torture?”
My blood turns to ice. “You… what?”
“Come on. It’s not that hard to see. I’m well acquainted with the rage of a father.” The air thickens with nothing but the low buzzing of flies to break the silence. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry’s not going to keep me alive,” I bite. “Unless you have a way out of those chains, my father is going to kill both of us before the week is through.”
The shadows sigh. “Luckily for you, I’ve been working on that this whole time.” With a sly little smirk, he shakes the cuff dangling loosely from his wrist. There’s a small pop as he reaches over and dislocates his thumb, then to my amazement, he slips it right out of the restraints.
“How long have you been able to do that?”
He brings the free hand to his chin and taps thoughtfully. “A few days. I just wanted to see how long you’d last, then I was going to escape.” His face widens in a terrifying grin. “But you’ve intrigued me. Watching you these past few days has been more entertainment than I’ve had in forever. I’d like to offer you salvation, my friend.”
“You’re fucking insane,” I breathe, my eyes widening as I take in my cunning cellmate. I thought I was crazy, but this guy is taking it to a whole other level…
His dark irises glint in the dark. “Thank you. So is that a yes or no on the salvation thing? Because Myers will come back any second, and I’d kind of like to know before he cuts out your tongue and you can’t talk anymore.”
I don’t have time to think about it. I don’t have the luxury.
“Yes,” I whisper.
As soon as the word passes my lips, the dungeon door creaks back open. The silver-haired boy goes slack against the wall, pretending to be asleep while It—my father, Carl Hellfyre—steps inside. I try to follow my cellmate’s advice, but as soon as I see that ugly fucking smirk, all I can think is how much I want to carve a smile of my own onto his face.
“Told you I’d be back,” Carl coos, pulling a thick steel torch from behind his back. “I think I’ve got just what I need to teach you some respect.” I can’t help but roll my eyes. He went from a crowbar to this? What a pussy.
Carl’s piss-yellow eyes narrow at my movement. “You think you’re so tough. We’ll see how well you roll your fucking eyes when you don’t have any.”
Fisting my hair in his fingers, he forces my head back and fires up the torch. I can feel the heat from the flame grow more intense as he slowly inches it toward my face. No, not my face—my right eye.
“Don’t fight it,” Carl coos, pushing the peak of the blue flame into my eye socket. Bright, blinding pain wracks through my entire being, and though I try not to give him what he wants, the excruciating burning is too much to bear.
My mouth opens wide, and a scream rips from my chest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LILLITH
For the first time all week, it’s not my nightmare that wakes me. It’s his. I can’t pretend to imagine the contents, but I know all too well what it’s like to be trapped inside your own mind. It sucks. Royally.
Part of me wants to reach out, to hold him until it passes. The other part reminds me that this man fucking kidnapped me. I should be hoping for a heart attack to strike in his sleep.
I can’t, though. I just lie here like the sick, twisted mess I am and listen to him scream himself hoarse, wishing I could go out there and offer some comfort. The dream lasts no more than a few minutes, but lying here in the dark with nothing else to do, it seems like an eternity. I’m only sure it’s over when the creak of the bedroom door alerts me to his arrival.
He pauses at the foot of the bed, and I try to quiet my breathing so he thinks I’m asleep. My heart betrays me, like always. He can probably hear it thrumming a mile away.
“I know you’re up.” His voice is hoarse, and it causes another pang to ring in my chest. “Will you be good if I take you out?”
