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My head feels fuzzy. My body aches. Wherever I am—whatever happened to me—I’m lying down on something lumpy, my hands trapped in front of me. I can’t move them, and the realization that I can’t has me screaming louder.
Until I hear someone snap at me and I jam my jaw shut in terror that, whatever’s going on, I’m not alone.
Someone scoffs, and I screw my eyes even tighter. It’s as though, if I can’t see it, the trouble’s not there, and oh my God, what is goingon?
“Shh. There’s no need for that.” My head feels fuzzy, but I know that voice. I can’t quite place it yet, but Iknowit. “Come on, Ava. Stop with this princess crap. They might treat you like that on the West Side, but the East End is different.
East End? What am I doing on the East End?
The last thing I remember, I was in downtown Springfield. I was at the flower shop and then… and then—
Bobby.
My eyes spring open, and Heidi Fox—former third-grade teacher at my school and current waitress at the Devil’s Playground—is standing over me, a look of annoyance on her face. She’s not wearing half as much make-up today as the last time we met, and while she’s not in the same uniform, her current outfit would definitely fit in as one of the clubbers.
Glancing down, avoiding the way she rolls her eyes as I start to panic, I see that I’m stretched out on a couch. My hands are cuffed together in front of me. I don’t know where this room is, but apart from Heidi, a small table, and the couch, it’s empty. No windows, either, and the only door is positioned directly behind Heidi.
If I could even flop off of the couch with my woozy body and my cuffed hands, I’d still have to get past her to leave, and something tells me that Heidi’s standing next to the couch to prevent exactly that from happening.
Bobby drugged me, I remember. With whatever was in the vial he injected me with, he drugged me and I have no idea how long I was out for, why he did it in the first place, and where I am now.
“What’s going on?” I ask Heidi. “Where’s Bobby? He… he shot me with something, I don’t know why, but I’m… where am I? Why do I have cuffs on?” I rattle them, the metal biting into my skin. “I want them off. Can you help me get them off?”
As if in answer to each of my questions, Heidi simply shows me her forearm—and, at the very least, I know the answer to that last one.
Can she help me get them off? Probably, but Heidi’s not going to, is she? And the fresh tattoo on her skin explains exactly why not.
The last time I saw her at the Playground, she had the red devil horns inked on her skin, like everyone else who works for the Sinners Syndicate. Not anymore. A dragonfly with teal and green wings is covering up Link’s mark.
Adragonfly.
At the beginning of the summer, I had no idea what that would mean. Since entering the life as Link’s bride, I’ve had a crash course in all things organized crime. From the hierarchy in each family, to the unspoken rules they all follow… and what each brand means.
Link’s is a devil.
The dragonfly is the mark of the Libellula Family.
Trying not to show how freaking out I am that I’m in cuffs, lost, and staring at a woman who’s wearing the brand of the man whose soldier I shot a month and a half ago.
Keeping my tone light, I say, “I thought you worked for Devil?”
ForLink?
Heidi raises her eyebrows. “You mean your husband?”
She knows. I’m not surprised that she does since Link introduced me to the Sinners—and she’s Bobby’s girlfriend—but the way she says it? It’s almost a sneer, like I did something wrong by being Link’s wife.
Welp. If she’s wearing a Libellula tattoo, I probably did.
“The Libellula Family are my husband’s rivals,” I say, not even trying to deny my relationship to Link. “It’s one thing for you to trade loyalty from the Sinners to another syndicate.” I think. I’m not so sure about that part. “I’m assuming Bobby did, too. But why bring me here?”
Heidi looks slightly uncomfortable. “Don’t blame, Bobby, okay? He did this for me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He was never going to rise up the ranks as a Sinner.” She scowls now, and there’s no doubt it’s meant for me. “They had him on babysitting duty, for God’s sake. If I want to get out of teaching, we need money. Both of us. He wasn’t going to get it with the Sinners. But Damien…” The way she whispers his name is so reverential, I want to throw up. “He’ll take care of us. And all it cost was finally getting you away from Devil and taking you to him instead.”
The urge to puke is even stronger now, and not only from the effects of whatever Bobby drugged me with. I did this. My jealousy and my need to prove to Link that a relationship can’t be built only on “ownership”... I did this.
