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“Why? What the hell do you want from me?” she asks, and I can see the frustration in her eyes.
“I want you safe! Until we know what’s going on with Cyrus and the Kings, you’re a target now.” I huff. Jeez, this woman is relentless. “I can’t let anything happen to you, Maven. You’re too important.”
“And why am I so important?” she asks. “Why me?”
“Because you know something that we don’t, and Cyrus wants to make sure that you don’t talk.”
“But I don’t know anything!”
“Goodnight, Maven,” I say, turning off the light and closing the door behind me.
A loud thud sounds against the door, and I grin. She’s feisty as hell, but right now, she’s a pain in my ass.
Chapter Nine
Maven
I can't believe this is happening. One day I’m just a regular person going about my business, and the next, I'm stuck in some stinky bedroom waiting for God knows what.
According to Wilder, I'll be here until I tell the Reckless Souls what I know—which is nothing.
So that means I need to find a way out.
Now.
There are two windows in the room, but for some reason, they’re covered with bars. Prison bars.
I check the bathroom. Yep. Bars in there too.
And the bathroom window is too small for my fat ass anyway.
There is no way out of his hellhole, and I drop back down on the bed, feeling utterly helpless and defeated. Worse? There’s no way out of this for me because I truly know nothing about Cyrus or his double life. If I knew then what I know now, I would have gotten away sooner, long before my heart got itself tangled up with him and his lies.
Why am I so stupid?
Without my phone, I have no idea how long I lie on the bed staring at the ceiling and thinking about the sad state of my life.
Some days, like today, I wonder if my parents were right. That I shouldn’t have been so eager to get out of New York and make a life for myself on my own terms. I mean, where has that gotten me?
I have no real support system here beyond Willow, and she’s a kid. Before winning the baking competition, I was stuck at a dead-end job with no room for advancement.
And my love life? Let’s just say there are more bodies in my past than a horror movie.
Men. They are all liars and cheaters, saying whatever they need to say to get their dick sucked, to get a home-cooked meal or whatever their end goal is.
Hell, I don’t even know what reason Cyrus had for picking me in the first place. I’m no one’s version of beautiful, barely passing the girl-next-door threshold of appeal. Mousy is what most people would call me, not exactly ugly or unattractive, just plain.
Which means in hindsight, there’s something Cyrus wanted or needed from me. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
“Son of a bitch!” That thought gives me a jolt of energy, to do what with, I’m not sure exactly only reinvigorated. Cyrus wants something, but what?
Hours later, though it feels like days, someone unlocks the door. I jump to my feet, on full alert after Wilder’s short visit last night. I don’t care who it is or what they want. This is my moment.
That’s what I tell myself. When Letty opens the door, however, with her sweet church girl smile and a plate of food in her hand, my shoulders sink. Of all the people in this whole damn place, she’s the only one I know. A regular customer atFor Goodness Cakes, I can vouch that she’s the nicest fucking person I’ve ever met.
“Letty.”
“Disappointed?”
