“Grayson, please help me figure this out.”
“I don’t have your answers, London. Just like Alice, it’s all in your mind. I’m simply giving you the tools to unearth them.”
Unearth.
I mentally comb over his words, looking for the clue, the piece of the puzzle Grayson is feeding me. Unearth…unearth…unearth.
Dig.
I hold down the button. “Dig,” I say.
He says nothing, forcing me to make the connection.
A tear slips across my temple. Adrenaline courses hot through my veins.
I push the button. “Dig them up.”
I pound on the lid.
“Dig them up!”
He wants me to free the girls.
But his silence stretches out. The dank air clings to my skin, thick, snuffing out my hope. The phone’s meager light begins to die, and I see the faces of my father’s victims. Mocking me for becoming just like them.
Then I hear scratching. The faint sound grows louder, tugging at the frayed edges of my sanity. A hollowthumpdetonates overhead.
The lid opens. Dirt falls on top of me, but a hand reaches down.
Grayson wipes soil from my face as I gasp in fresh air, starving for oxygen.
“You bastard.” I lash out with a strike toward his face, but he catches my hand, his grip circling my wrist.
“Save your energy,” he says, voice calm. “The first test is always the easiest.”
First test.
Dehydration. Sleep deprivation. Psychological collapse. It all hits me at once and my body gives out.
I fall.
23
MASTER OUR PASSION
LONDON
Light flickers behind my eyelids. The cool press of a damp cloth draws me from the shadows.
My eyelids feel weighted, as if I’ve slept too long, leaving me with a morbid hangover. When I manage to pry my eyes open, Grayson is close, and I flinch away. In the dim light, I register he’s clean-shaven. The scent of shampoo and soap pervades my senses before my internal alarm jars me fully awake.
“Where the hell am I?” I demand groggily.
Yet one quick glance around the bathroom gives me the answer. Candles illuminate the space, making it feel cozy. Romantic, even. My stomach lurches.
“I’ll power up the generator soon,” Grayson says, his gaze slipping over the candle nearest us.
I adjust my position, realizing I’m on the tile floor, my back propped against the wall.
