Page 134 of Locked in Wonderland

Yes, there had been flashes of temper. Yes, he’d frustrated the hell out of me. But I’d never genuinely believed he was going to hurt me.

A better comparison would have been if I’d never escaped from Kellan Hart and somehow come to believe I had feelings for him. The very thought made my skin crawl.

I only wished I could tell Nico he’d been wrong.

Four months after Wonderland

“How did the date go?” Hannah called the moment she heard the front door open.

I shrugged off my jacket, hung it on the coat rack, and wandered into the living room before collapsing onto the sofa with a weary sigh. “Not good.”

She gave me a sympathetic smile. “What was wrong with this one?”

He wasn’t Nico. Given I’d never once spoken that name aloud around Hannah—or anyone else—it wasn’t an answer I could give. “I don’t know,” I said instead. “No spark, I guess.”

The television was on quietly in the background. I stared at the screen without taking in a thing, hoping she’d lose interest.

She didn’t.

“Maybe you should call him,” she said eventually.

“Call who?”

“Your ex.” Her lips curled into a knowing smile. “The man you can’t seem to get over.”

If only I could call him. I’d thought that more times than I cared to admit, occasionally comforting myself with the knowledge that even if I’d thought to ask for his number, he’d almost certainly have gotten rid of any phone Wonderland could use to reach him.

“I’m over him,” I lied, keeping my eyes on the television.

“Sure you are, sweetie.” She reached for the remote. “Just keep telling yourself that.”

Six months after Wonderland

“Jesus Christ!”

Hannah’s exclamation had me sitting up in bed and glaring at the closed door that separated us. “Some of us worked the night shift,” I shouted.

“Sorry. It’s just this shit on the news is crazy.”

I lay back down, closing my eyes and willing myself back to sleep.

“You just don’t think this sort of thing goes on in this day and age,” she continued.

“What sort of thing?” I shouted back sleepily, not really caring but feeling obliged to ask. Hannah had always tended toward the dramatic.

“Posing as a party place when really there’s all sorts of depravity lurking beneath the surface.”

My eyes snapped open. “What party place?” Say Ibiza. Say Magaluf. Say anywhere except the one place I’d finally stopped thinking about.

“Wonderland. You worked near there, right? Did you ever see any strange stuff?”

I swung my legs out of bed, grabbing a robe on the way out of the room. Hannah stood in the middle of the living room, eyes glued to the TV. She stepped aside to give me room when I appeared next to her, still belting my robe.

“Turn it up,” I demanded.

She shot me a funny look, but did as I asked. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was. Then you woke me up.”