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“Your trap is unnecessary,” Blakely says, her voice rising over her fear. “Like I said, I took care of Brewster. The investigation into the murders is over. None of it is a threat to you, or to London.”
Grayson’s eyes flare at the mention of his psychologist.
A tense silence chokes the air as the two of them stay locked in a stare off, some measure of threat passing between them.
Not for the first time, I wish I was privy to that first conversation between Blakely and London. If only she had let me in completely, we might have been able to beat the disturbed duo at our own game instead of playing theirs.
Grayson is the first to break the spell. The corner of his mouth hitches with the faintest smile. “We had a bet on whether or not you’d show, whether you’d leave Alex here to rot.”
I grunt as the cables bite into my bones, cutting off circulation. “She showed,” I say.
Blakely glances up at me. “Did you bet I’d come or not?”
That’s a loaded question. Grayson releases a chuckle. “Yes, Chambers, do you call this a win?”
“You can let her go,” is all I say. There was no negotiating for my life, so I wagered Blakely’s. Not that I trust the honor code of the man who rammed an icepick through my sister’s brain—but it was my only option to try to protect her.
I expel a strained breath, a tangled fusion of regret and relief tightening my chest. I want Blakely out of danger, but I also want to believe what tethers us together is stronger than a successful treatment and her malice toward me.
Yes, greedily, I wanted her to come for me.
Grayson pushes off the wall and takes unhurried steps toward the pocket watch. “I am a man of my word,” he says to her. “You’re free to go, Blakely.”
She licks her lips, stalling. “And what happens to Alex?”
Standing in the middle of the room, he touches the pocket watch, giving it a spin. “Do you care?”
She’s silent a beat before she says, “If you’re a man of your word, then you have to release him. You got what you initially asked for—”
“You’re trying to debate with a psychopath,” I interrupt. “Think, Blakely. There was never any real deal. His methodology is full of loopholes. It was always going to end this way. Grayson just likes to toy with his victims first.”
We discussed this. I told her we had no choice. When I tried to convince her to help me murder Grayson and Brewster, turning her into a full-fledged killer. The idea seems so preposterous now, how I believed I had designed her mind to accommodate her revenge skills.
That’s not why she stabbed Ericson.
His murder wasn’t done out of justice or revenge or even her uncontrollable emotions—it was to protect an innocent life.
She was never the monster.
I was.
“That’s why you need to go,” I say, starting to feel lightheaded as I answer my own internal monologuing. “Let me make it right.”
Grayson watches her closely, regarding her with a curious look. At her intense silence, Grayson nods knowingly.
Blakely drops her bag to the floor, her declaration voiced in one action.
“Regardless of loopholes,” Grayson says, “releasing Alex isn’t my call to make. It’s yours, Blakely.”
She lifts her chin in defiance, and my heart batters my rib cage. “What is the trap?” she demands.
My eyes close briefly in defeat. She’s going to play his game.
“I was impressed with your design for the trap,” Grayson says to her, moving toward the grooming area. “A very simple yet precise design around your victim, using Alex’s own pocket watch to lure him into the cage. I respect the personal touch. I admired it so much, in fact, I decided to utilize it myself. With a few minor alterations.”
He shoves a white partition aside to reveal what’s behind the panel.
Blakely steps forward, then stops, rethinking her response. She’s not used to acting on impulse.
