Page 41 of Chained

The silence in the room is palpable for a moment, until the sound of a packet rustling breaks it. My gaze moves to the bench where Jarrod's perched, hand tucked firmly into half a bag of crisps, crumbs stuck in his hoodie. He doesn't look up, though; he just speaks with his mouth half full.

"He's moping about the new girl."

Since when does he notice anything when he's got his face buried in a bag of crisps? I keep my expression flat, jaw tight. He's wrong. He has to be. Because if he's right, if he's clocked something I haven't even let myself think about yet, then I'm in more trouble than I thought. And I can't afford that. Not here. Not now. Not ever.

Adrian glances at me, then at him. "Which girl?"

I rip the gloves off, throwing one at Jarrod and letting the other fall to the floor.

"No fucking girl. Fuck off." My knuckles are red, raw. I flex them and breathe through the sting. I thought I'd hidden it well—the way her gaze affected me, how her voice crept under my skin. Clearly, I was a fool for thinking it.

"I'm just…The last meeting was fucked up, right? It's got to me a little. That's all." Just saying the words triggers the memory of Vincent sliding the dagger into that young girl, her lifeless eyes as he dropped her to the ground like she's nothing—because that's what they are to him. Nothing.

I try to shake it from my head, but it won't budge. It hasn't since the moment it happened, but somehow her voice slides aside the memory, soft and curious—What kind of name is that?—and the sound almost brings a smile to my lips.

What the fuck is wrong with me.

A girl in a cell, a girl I delivered here, a girl whose life I'm partly responsible for ruining, and her voice is the thing that pulls me back from the edge. Not Adrian. Not Jarrod. Her. I clamp down hard on it, shove it somewhere dark, and refuse to look at it. It means nothing. She means nothing.

Until Jarrod drags me back to reality—he's still stuffing his face, crunching louder as he speaks.

"I'd say more than that. Vincent's lost his mind."

Adrian tosses the pads onto the floor, leaning against the wall. He wipes his nose with his wrist. "You need to watch yourself, Ace. Don't push him."

I snort and stretch my arms overhead until my shoulders crack.

"I'm not scared of Vincent. Never have been."

Adrian's jaw flexes. "I mean it, Ace. Don't piss him off."

I roll my eyes, grab a towel, and mop the sweat off my face. Jarrod laughs for a second but then begins to splutter as he chokes on his crisps.

"You're a liability, Jar," I say as I cross the room, hand firmly clapping against Jarrod's back. The last thing I need today is him dying. Even though I feel like killing him myself right now.

The doors groan open, and the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor makes me look up. I don't have to see her to know who it is. I guess that's what you get for being tangled up with someone for so long.

"Morning, boys." Her voice is sultry as she steps into view, her long, black hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her makeup dark, and a black dress that clings to every curve in her body, a slit so high up her thigh it reveals the snake tattoo that coils around it.

"Melina." Adrian nods as he turns his back to her, gathering his things to leave. He never sticks around for long—not when Melina's involved, at least. I wish I'd listened to him years ago, to stay away from her. That it would cause me nothing but trouble.

"Leaving so soon, Adrian?" Her lips pout as she mocks him, but he doesn't take the bait. She tilts her head to the side, eyes fixed on Jarrod.

"No hello to your big sister, brother?"

Jarrod's stammer doesn't allow him to speak; he stutters over his words as he tries to reply. She laughs, and he gives in. It only ever appears when he's close to his siblings. Around us, he's free to be who he wants.

"Do you want something?" I step closer, her eyes lighting up at my voice. She turns, and the others are forgotten.

"Hello, Ace." Her voice is lower as she moves towards me, her movements slow as she places a hand on my bicep. I don't move, I just stare down, eyes flicking from her hand to her face. Hoping she'll take the hint.

"Again, do you need something?" I repeat, already tired of her bullshit.

"Vincent sent me." Her teeth graze her bottom lip as her thumb caresses my skin. "Said he has someone waiting for you to…" She pauses for a moment, eyes darkening under her lashes. "Take care of. He said you'll know where to find him."

Another name. Another life. Another face I'll carry around for years until they all blur into one. My jaw tightens as the familiar weight settles across my shoulders, the one that never really lifts anymore. I nod, pushing past her. Jarrod falls into step beside me.

I hear her trailing behind, her heels against the floor as she follows. I turn to Jarrod, my voice low. "Go to your room."