Pawn (The Pawn Duet #2) - T.M. Frazier Page 0,28

“You can do this. You just need a plan.”

“Talking to yourself is a common symptom of schizophrenia,” a voice suddenly muses. “At least, that’s what I learned in prison.”

My eyes snap open to find Percy, sitting on my bed with his back to me. His white tank top stretched over his back, his head bowed.

“It can also be a sign of high-functioning cognitive behavior,” I reply on instinct. “Why are you in my room?” I shift from one foot to the other, then correct myself, straightening my shoulders and taking the stance of someone who isn’t guilty of anything.

Percy spins around to face me, and my eyes immediately drop to what he’s holding on his lap. A book. No, a journal. My body grows cold. No. It can’t be…

But it is.

Percy is holding my journal.

7

Mickey

Every word I’ve ever written about the Reich is in Percy’s hands. Every analysis I’ve made about its members, about Darius.

About him.

“Where did you get that?” I ask, looking to the dresser. The drawer I keep it in is open, the false bottom hanging haphazardly over the side.

He ignores my question because the answer is obvious. He found it right where I put it. “This has all been some sort of experiment to you?” Percy slams the journal shut.

I jump, startled. “It’s…it’s not what you think,” I stammer, trying to figure out what to say and find the words to use that are somehow going to get me out of this alive. I study his body language. His tight jaw and dark beady eyes tell me that he’s either excited or fucking pissed, and considering what he’s just read, I’m going with the latter.

“All this time,” he says, standing from the bed. The ferocity of his hard gaze causes my spine to grow rigid. He shakes his head and smirks. “Right under my fucking nose.” He rubs his palms over the stubble on his head. “It’s all been a fucking lie. You. This was all for research? To discover what makes us tick? It’s been a fucking game to you!” A thick, blue vein pulses in his throat, giving a heartbeat to the swastika tattoo covering his Adam’s Apple.

“You’re judging me?” I laugh, even though it’s not the haha kind of funny. But there’s no denying it now. I can’t hide from my words, my confession written in my own clear legible handwriting.

His chest heaves. He balls his fists. “Answer me! Has this all been a fucking game to you?”

“No,” I say. “Games are fun. None of this has been fun.”

“I thought…” He looks to the ceiling, then back to me. “I thought you were my friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids. You betrayed me.” There’s a hurt in his words that I never expected to hear. Not from Percy, not ever.

“How did you ever think that we were friends? We were pushed together by our fathers. We never had a conversation that wasn’t about the Reich.” I wave my hands in the air wildly, feeling every bit as frustrated as I do afraid. “You don’t even know me.”

“But, you know me, right?” He stalks toward the window and rests his hands on the sill. “A true sociopath, exhibiting all of the traits in which a sociopath is classically defined. Those behaviors have flourished under the lamp lights provided by the perfect breeding ground, courtesy of the environmental and social factors found within The Fourth Reich,” he recites, throwing my words back at me. “So, Michaela, you ask a lot of questions in that book of yours. You’ve made a lot of observations, but tell me, what is it that you’ve actually learned? Tell me what you’ve discovered during your time here observing us. Observing me. Did you find out the reasons we hate?” Disgust rolls off of his lips when he emphasizes the title of my research.

He turns from the window and stalks toward me, stopping in the middle of the room, pinning me in place with his dark glare.

I swallow hard, but I don’t back down. If I’m going to die it’s going to be with the truth on my lips.

“No more lies,” Percy grates. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”

I straighten my shoulders. “I’ve learned that hate is a disease like any other human affliction, but deadlier. I’ve learned that kindness is the only cure, but it’s rejected by your kind and not even considered an option.”

“And why is that?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

I hold his gaze