Page 92 of Locked in Wonderland

“You absolutely did.”

“The subject,” Nico said evenly, “was getting you off this island.”

“Yet somehow I’m having this conversation with your back.”

He stopped what he was doing and turned around. “Happy?”

“Not remotely.” I studied him for a moment. “How did you get this job, Nico?” His name sounded alien on my tongue. Surely, I’d used it before? If not in conversation, then in bed. I couldn’t recall an exact time, though, so maybe not. “It’s a simple enough question to answer.”

Nico’s slight frown said it wasn’t simple at all, which only piqued my interest more. What was he hiding?

“I should have left the collar on you?”

I laughed. “Right. Because then you could have given me five thousand volts instead of talking to me. Easier than changing the subject, I suppose.”

“There was no job.”

That wasn’t the answer I’d expected. “What does that mean?“

“It means I was born here.”

“In Wonderland?”

He nodded.

I frowned. “So your parents are here?”

“I never knew my parents.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Then how did you end up here?”

He abandoned the dishes to return to his chair, resting his elbows on the table. “I would have thought you of all people wouldn’t need that explained. People disappear in Wonderland. People get sold. People get bought.”

The implication settled heavily between us.

“I ended up in the Harts’ care,” he continued.

Something about the way he said care made me pay closer attention.

“What does that mean? They adopted you?”

“Not officially.”

“But you lived with them?”

“Yes.”

Things were slotting into place. Kind of. But for every question I got him to answer, it felt like two more took their place. And I was keenly aware that any careless words on my part might bring a premature end to the conversation. “Do you think of them as your parents?”

“No.” The answer came instantly. “They had Kellan. They never treated me the same way.

“Who’s older?”

“I am. By three years.”