Caged Kitten (All the Queen's Men #2) - Rhea Watson Page 0,116
thick, shapeless cotton. Somehow my replacement jumpsuit hung even baggier than the one Deimos had torn, like Lloyd was hell-bent on making me as unattractive to other inmates as possible.
“Well,” Fintan said suddenly, his tone light, the sentiment almost an afterthought, “obsessed with your mother, from the sounds of it, but obviously you’re a piece of her.”
My gut roiled, an anxiety barf surging, and I pressed a hand to my belly as I gulped down the flood of mouth sweats. Everything else still ached despite Tully’s constant care, my muscles stiff and sore, the pains sharp if I moved too quickly or twisted the wrong way. At this point, the thought of vomit-convulsions on top of all that just made me want to scream bloody murder and hope someone might eventually sedate me.
“Fintan, enough,” Elijah rumbled, eyes locked on me, and once again I was weak and small and pathetic, in need of a man, my mate, to save the day. Still, it made me queasy to consider that Lloyd’s unhealthy fascination with my mom had jumped to me, and I really didn’t need Fintan pointing out the obvious.
“I-I can’t go looking in his office,” I told them, wishing I sounded brave again. “He makes me sit in a chair… I worry that if I’m up and moving around, I’m a target. I… Maybe he’ll touch me again—”
Elijah drove his fist into the wall, taking a huge chunk out this time, and I scooted to the end of the bed—if only to give the beast some room to pace. He stayed seated, glaring, seething, grinding his teeth as he looked right through me.
“Mate, can you stop destroying my cell?” Rafe muttered, swiping back at the dragon shifter with a weak smile. “It might be a shithole, but it’s my shithole, you know?”
Elijah responded with a distracted grunt, one that had Fintan smirking and Rafe sighing. My fated sank deep into thought for a moment, but just as he opened his mouth, a siren blared through the cellblock.
Lights-out.
Early.
Of course.
None of us moved at first, stuck in place and exchanging tense glances, until finally Fintan helped me up, a hand on my elbow, and Elijah trailed after us out the door. We all went our separate ways without a word, the conversation left open-ended, and as I collapsed onto my cot, Tully whizzed inside just before my cell door slammed shut, hidden in the shadows like always. He hopped up on my bed with one of his silly squeaky baby purrmeows, climbing into my lap and kneading in a circle around my thighs.
Eyes watery again, I sniffled and hugged him tight, bracing through my ribs screeching in protest, through my stomach’s anxiety churn—and through the guilt mounting higher and higher with each passing minute.
As soon as the flickering overhead light cut out, Rafe whispered my name through the mousehole—same as always, kick-starting one of our nightly conversations that could last hours. But I didn’t move. Couldn’t speak. I just sat on my bed, back to the wall, and clutched Tully tighter.
What they had done to him—tortured him, scarred him for the rest of eternity—was my fault. Anyone in my orbit would suffer an intense scrutiny from Lloyd going forward, and it was time to make my own moves. Be my own white knight with my own fucking sword.
No more putting them in danger.
No more letting them assume the risk of associating with me.
Gossip spread like wildfire in Xargi, and it wouldn’t be long before Lloyd knew precisely who I spent my time with—and he would pick them off one by one. Silver for Elijah. Iron for Fintan. He’d try to isolate me, threaten me, make me even more afraid of his supernatural penitentiary than I had been on that first day. Cull my allies, splinter my social connections, destroy my guys—break my heart.
No.
No.
I’d do all that first.
For their own good, I had to bow out of this. Walk away. Let Elijah and Rafe go back to coasting under the radar. Fintan could join them—or maybe he would find a more entertaining clique to hang with. Their protection, their survival, necessitated a big move.
Even if just the thought of walking away hurt more than all my injuries combined.
“Katja?” Rafe’s voice skittered through the hole more urgently this time. Lips trembling, I turned my back on the wall dividing our cells and settled on my side.
“Go to sleep, Rafe,” I croaked back. “You need to sleep.”