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She nodded, her mouth tight.
“The remote wouldn’t have sent a signal? The collar doesn’t work?”
“It’s not even the right remote,” she admitted. “This was the remote he used to activate the gas in your cell. I swiped it before I left.”
“To use as a prop,” I said. “To jerk me around.”
“That’s right,” she said stiffly.
“Can you get it off?”
“Take it off yourself. I unlocked the mechanism before we left Halliwell’s complex. Pull the sides apart from the back. The hinge in front will open now.”
I reached back, my battered, sore shoulders screaming in pain as I felt for that seam with my fingertips. I’d tried to open it before, of course, way back in the day. Many, many times. But it had always held as firm as a rigid, solid ring of steel.
This time, it opened easily, with a gentle, barely audibleclick.
I lifted the thing carefully off myself, hissing with pain as the scabbed skin that had adhered to the metal pulled, tore, stung.Fuck, that hurt.
I looked at the hideous thing in my hands, disoriented at how small it felt. My neck felt cold and naked without it. My raw skin burned in the open air.
I looked up at the huge mass of ice beside me. “What the fuck is this?”
“Ice sculpture,” she said. “A decoration, for one of his parties. I was all dressed up for it.” She plucked at the skirt of her ball gown. “It’s the Halliwell Enterprises corporate logo, carved into a ton of ice. What a perfect medium for it.”
“How did you get me out of there?”
“I stole the gurney with your body, after your fake execution. Right outside the incinerator room. You were already in a body bag. I brought a stimulant to throw off the effects of the sedative once we were away from the place. Sorry about that. The drugs, the shock. I know it must have felt awful. And probably still does.”
“Better than the alternative,” I mused. “Which I assume was death.”
“Yeah, that was my line of reasoning, too. This van belonged to the ice sculpture guys. I knocked them out. I really hope I didn’t hurt them. There was a GPS trace stuck with a magnet under the van, which I pulled out. I hope that was the only one. Not that it matters. If I can’t help Reggie, it’s all for nothing. Who gives a fuck about any of it.”
I tried to picture it all, but it wouldn’t come together. This fragile looking creature had mounted a prison break for me, by herself, while I lay unconscious. In the thin hope that I would help save her sister when I woke up. That was true desperation.
I suddenly saw Holly in my head, in her pink sundress, laughing. Her blond hair wind-tossed. I felt it, right down to my core. What I’d do to protect her.
Which was to say, any fucking thing I could think of. I would do anything, try anything, risk anything. And this girl had given it her all. I saw it in her eyes.
I couldn’t throw that back in her face. That wasn’t me. That was Red’s unique, particular magic. She reminded me of who I was, even when I preferred to forget.
“Do you have a functioning phone?” I asked.
She pulled up her skirt giving me a tantalizing glimpse of her slender, shapely legs, digging into a bag she had rigged to hang beneath it. She pulled out a smartphone, and tossed it at me.
I caught it, and there I was, holding a live telephone in my hand. Smooth, heavy, full of power and potential. It was a heady feeling, after being locked out of time and space for so long. Red sagged against the door, looking tragic.
I pulled up the keypad, and for the first time in I had no idea how long, I deliberately tried to remember something. Ethan’s phone number.
My brain didn’t have a fucking clue, but fortunately, my fingers did. They plugged in the numbers. The phone rang... and rang… and rang.
Click.The line opened. “Who’s this?” Ethan’s voice was brusque, suspicious.
Tears sprang in my eyes. I tried to speak, but a dry croak was all that came out of my ruined throat. I coughed and tried again, “Ethan.”
Ethan was silent for a moment. “Who is this?”
“It’s me,” I said.
