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I sighed and stopped pacing at last. I looked out the windows at the ground below, where there was a group of people dressed in black uniforms practicing their fighting. It reminded me of Amara training our own security team back home, and I got a pang of longing to be spending a boring day in our Oakville mansion with my guys.
“I’ve been here all along, but I managed to hide it with a decent dose of anxiety,” I laughed. “So now that you know I can still fight, what are we going to do?”
“Oh, that’s easy enough,” Amara said. “We’re going to do what you always say.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Burn them all to the ground,” she grinned and nodded.
I nodded back and said, “I like it. Simple, destructive, and bloody. Perfect.”
And I was ready to start the moment we could. I just needed to get a message to the Kings letting them know we were going to be okay. The last thing I needed was them getting themselves killed trying to keep me safe when I was the one who was going to save us all.
CHAPTER2
They keptus without contact with anybody else, locked in our suite for two days before anybody saw us. I tried over and over to access wifi or data with my phone, even just to send out a text to Penny and Neve, who must be worried about us. After all, we had essentially disappeared off the map.
And my classes, what was going to happen with my education? I was so fucked, and so incredibly frustrated. The carpet literally had wear marks on it now after I’d paced a hundred miles across, back and forth in front of the tall windows overlooking the mansion.
Amara was trained mentally to handle situations like this. She spent her time lounging in her bed or on one of the velvet chairs or working out. She got me doing her high-intensity training circuits with her to keep my mind off my anxious concerns, but it didn’t completely stop them from leaking through.
Exercise kept hunger at bay. That was one of the biggest benefits. It quelled the constant rumble in my stomach and took the edge off the stabbing pains in my abdomen. It also helped me get through the constant fantasizing I did about food.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the meals I made with my Kings or barbecue ribs paired with an ice-cold beer. Or ice cream. I could have killed somebody for a tub of cookies and cream right about then. I thought about pasta with rich, creamy sauce, deep-fried chocolate bars like the ones we’d had at a county fair one time, and even about things like sushi. I could have eaten an entire salmon raw, I swear.
It’s funny how when you’re that hungry, you never fantasize about high protein, low carb things. Or salads. Or low-fat treats. You want the good stuff, full of fat and carbs and flavor.
I could have killed a bitch to get the directions to Flavortown.
I was doing ab crunches with Amara while wearing the same sweaty clothes that we’d had on since Hong Kong when finally there was a click at the door, and the handle turned.
We both stopped, froze, and turned our heads to watch the door. It opened slowly, and both of us climbed to our feet. Two days ago, we would have leaped up but not eating, and the psychological effects of being confined had slowed us both. I supposed that was the point, though, so we wouldn’t have the energy or strength to fight back.
Avery stuck her head around the door and offered us a manically gleeful smile.
“Hey, bestie,” she said with that grating, sing-song, mocking voice that triggered a fit of deep anger inside of me. “How are you doing in here? You haven’t started fighting each other to the death yet, have you?”
“What the fuck do you want?” I grumbled and glared at her. I was swaying as I stood. I was still too weak to stand how I wanted to, strong and steady and ready to kick her ass.
“Oh, do you want me to go away?” she exclaimed and raised her eyebrows. “I mean, I could. But then I would have pushed this stupid cart up here for nothing.”
She pushed the door open the rest of the way with a flourish. She stepped inside and yanked a room service cart behind her. It was silver, scrolled, and fancy, but I didn’t care about that.
More importantly, it was covered with silver domed dished and had a cooler underneath.
“What is that?” Amara asked, eternally suspicious, especially if it seemed like somebody was going to do something nice for us.
“This?” Avery asked and drew her hand across the tray like she was on some game show. “Oh, you mean this tray of food? It’s nothing fancy, just a couple of burgers, french fries, gravy, and some apple pie for dessert. Oh, we also brought some ice cold cans of Coke, but if you’re not interested, then I can just wheel them back down to the kitchen.”
“Of course we want them,” Amara said and walked over to Avery. “I know this is a fucking game to you, but what you’re doing will be noted and held against you.”
“Oh, could you make a note of one of Everly’s boyfriends and hold him against me, too? I think I’ll take Ryker. Or maybe Valen. Or, I don’t know, Archer. No, I want Kingston.”
She turned to me and grinned, her sleek straight dark hair shining as brightly as her dark brown eyes. I didn’t know how we could be sisters. I didn’t think we looked anything alike. I scanned her face for any traces of Ivan, too, and found nothing.
She swung her eyes to mine and said, “I can see why you’re such a greedy little whore with those fine hotties. I can’t seem to choose just one, either. So I guess I like your style. Why choose when you can have them all?”
I scoffed and blew a stray hair off my forehead.
