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“This is a transmission scanner, and I have to hide it in my bullet-proof vest, risking my life to keep it, so that someone doesn’t listen in on our every word.”
I lower the page and suck in a breath. “They’ve recorded us?”
“They’ve tried.” He shoves the rectangle back into his uniform.
“What about Lori?” I ask.
“Oh, they’re being recorded, but Frederick isn’t a fool. He’ll make sure they don’t talk about anything other than how great the Eminent’s dick is, I promise.” He turns and kicks an open cabinet door, breaking it off at the hinges. He’s destroying this room piece by piece.
I fold the pages back in place, Alex watching as I crisp the edges and keep my mouth tight. When he’s calmed down, the red leaving his cheeks and his breaths returning to normal, I walk over to the couch and take a seat.
He plops down beside me, running his hands through his hair and pulling at the ends. Sweat trickles down his temple.
“No one has mentioned you removed the devices?” I ask. “To the Eminent?”
He snorts a laugh. “No one’s going to tell the Eminent I found them. That would mean they failed. Shoot the messenger and all that. It’s one of his men who’s probably lying, repeating the stories I’m telling them about breaking your back with the mirror, fucking you day and night.”
“Seems like you’re smarter than them,” I offer. I slide the paper over to Alex. “If you think it’s too dangerous for us to have this—”
“I do,” he barks.
I hold my palm up between us and widen my eyes. “If you think it’s too dangerous for us to have this, I have another idea of someone who should.”
“Sam,” Alex snips. “Where it belongs.”
“There are some adherents that talk about… Dean presenting an opportunity for an uprising. His arrival offers a distraction for them. Do you know what they mean? Because I think I do.”
“No one would dare. All the adherents…” He trails off, leaning his back against the couch.
“I happen to know that some want to do this… uprising thing. I’m assuming it’s a mutiny.” I tap on the folded page between us. “What if this got into their hands?”
Alex rubs his stubble, his eyes moving back and forth.
“You’re crazy.”
“We’ve established that,” I deadpan. “Don’t you want to get out?”
“There is no out,” Alex growls, grabbing me by my arms and forcing me to face him. His actions don’t scare me, and for a moment, I wonder if he’ll kiss me. The thought flashes in my mind, his lips too close to mine, our embraces always a touch too intimate alone in this room. He’s lonely, and I remind him of his wife, right down to the disagreements.
His fingers press into my skin, his mouth moving closer to my lips as his nails dig into the flesh. It hurts, physically and mentally, being with him like this, but I don’t push him away. I let the moment tick by, fighting the urge to embrace him, whatever that means.
He leans down, eyes closing, hands tightening and holding me in place.
“Alex…” I say, barely over a whisper.
His eyes slit open. “I’m sorry…” he trails off, but he doesn’t pull away. “You’re so much like her. You’re just…”
“I know,” I cut him off, not entirely sure what I’m acknowledging.
His eyes widen, moving back and forth across my face, and he jerks his head away. “What am I doing?” he asks, even though we both know the answer.
“If things were different,” I admit.
He lets me go, staring down at his hands, probably thinking the same thoughts. “We just have to… try to survive in here—”
“Dean will start a war,” I interrupt him. “He’ll kill everyone in his way, stripping this place bare. It’s now or never. You can’t hide down here anymore. You can’t pretend like the clock isn’t ticking on this.”
He closes his hands into fists. “I’m so fucking glad I brought you down here.”
