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“How long are you going to keep me here?” I demand, changing the subject until enough time has passed to be sure Torean has left the dungeon. “Or did you send your evil twin away because you want to put me out of my misery yourself?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Callen shrugs, then winks. “But you do look good in chains.”
I ignore him and ask, “Why did you step in? You didn’t have to.”
He chuckles, running his hand through his wavy hair and making the muscles in his forearms flex like he’s showing off. “I don’t want my brother having my sloppy seconds.”
I glower at him. “How’s Bram?”
His smile vanishes. “You put on a good act earlier, but you don’t have to keep pretending. We all know you don’t care.”
“Is he alive?” I press.
“Yes,” he says. “Thanks to me.”
Good. During our imprisonment, I got to know Bram. He’s sacrificed a lot for me—going back when Spencer left me for dead, giving me intel on Alaric working with Trout, and jumping in front of a bullet like a human fucking shield. I already have Daisy’s blood on my hands; I don’t want Bram’s, too.
Callen walks away, disappearing around the corner out of view.
I hear rattling, followed by the sounds of objects being moved around.
“Hey! What are you—” My words trail away as he returns seconds later, brandishing a hose like a sexy fireman.
“It’s time for a wash.”
Before I can say anything, he blasts icy water in my direction. I struggle to catch my breath, but he keeps going. He hoses me down until I’m gasping for air and completely drenched from head to toe. It can’t go on for more than a minute, but his water attack seems to last hours.
“Much better,” he says finally, turning the stream off.
“You b-b-b-bastard,” I stammer, unable to stop my teeth from chattering.
My clothes cling to my skin, and my wet, tangled hair sticks to my face. Resembling a drowned rat is not my best look, but at least it helped wash away the smell of Torean’s chemical aftershave.
He drops the hose and steps forward. I try to move around the column to escape him, but there’s nowhere to hide. He stands opposite me. I refuse to make eye contact as he strokes my cheek. The scorching temperature of his fingers is heavenly against my icy skin.
“Look at me,” he demands.
Despite my better instincts, I don’t pull away and look up, hoping he’ll let me cosy up to his fiery palms once more. It’sfucking freezing down here! What’s a girl to do? His pupils dilate as he admires my body.
“You have nowhere to go,” he murmurs, leaning closer. His breath smells of hot whiskey and danger. “You’re ours now.”
I snap myself out of whatever trance he’s putting me under.
“I belong to no one,” I breathe.
He laughs, putting one arm above my head to box me in. His other hand moves from my cheek, stroking the spot where his brother hit, then moves further down. His fingers caress my shoulder blade, tickling along its gentle curve, then glide to my collarbone until he reaches my fresh cut.
He edges closer, close enough that the hard bulge in his trousers presses against my bound hands. Eurgh, why do cocks feel like radiators? If I closed my eyes and he kept his mouth shut, I might be able to forget that the appendage was attached to him. I could do with something warm to snuggle against. Perhaps that was his plan—get me to freeze to death and offer his dick as the only way to avoid hypothermia.
He sweeps a wet curl out of my eye and ducks down to whisper, “You don’t exist. We’re the only thing standing between you and death.”
His lips graze my ear lobe, and he catches it between his teeth, nibbling slightly. I can’t tell whether I’m imagining it because of the cold-induced numbness taking over my body until his tongue licks the side of my neck. He keeps going until his face rests between my tits, and the point of his tongue laps up the droplets of blood pooling from my cut.
I’m too stunned to speak as he stands again. We stare at each other, unblinking. Neither one of us wants to be the first to break eye contact. We’re sucked into the vortex of chaos that swirls around us whenever we’re together.
“Did you know that Freddie kicked me out of the Dukes after the Collingsbrook Ball?” he asks. “They thought I put you in danger.”
“They should have thrown you out long ago,” I mutter.
