“You’re fucking foul,” Slay said in a conversational tone. “It sucks when you don’t get the girl. Trust me, I’m aware. But the way you’re acting? You’ll die alone.”
As Rowena hunched over, fighting a second wave of nausea, Lucan punched Slay in the face. It didn’t even turn his head. The Animari loosened his shoulders and offered a defiant look, practically daring Lucan to do it again.
“Eyes down!”
Slay kept staring. “Fuck you,” he said deliberately.
That earned him another two blows, neither of which he seemed to feel. People were starting to gather, sensing that there might be an escalation, and then two more guards arrived. Her heart sank.
“What’s happening here?” Timms demanded.
Lucan deferred to this asshole so he must be the ranking officer on scene; the blond guard responded without hesitation. “This prisoner defiled my shoes and her companion is being obstinate and combative.”
You’re doing this because he made eye contact, she almost said. But it was better not to provoke them.
Too bad Slay didn’t give a fuck. He crossed his arms and glanced between the three guards. “Is it that time again?”
They shared a confused look, then Timms spoke again. “What time?”
The Animari smirked, seeming to provoke them on purpose. “Time for you to relieve your feelings of sadness and inadequacy by putting me in the box.”
“If you apologize for breaking the rules and promise to comply going forward, I see no reason to do that,” the guard said, surprising Rowena.
She blinked. That was more logic and understanding than one usually got from Timms. He was a son of a bitch, but it seemed like he didn’t care for Lucan. That made sense since the guards had their own hierarchy, and they wouldn’t feel great about allowing a former prisoner and turncoat into their ranks.
Slay laughed in their faces. “You want me to apologize for looking at this asshole? Not gonna happen. I’d rather go back in the box.”
“Your wish is granted,” Lucan snapped. To Timms he added, “Permission to proceed?”
The older guard sighed, but he didn’t act like he cared enough to interfere. “Granted.”
As the three of them dragged Slay away, he called to Rowena, “Don’t let our children forget me!”
Though it shouldn’t be the least bit funny—why did he have to be a wise-ass even now—Rowena still fucking laughed.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t my brightest move.
Belatedly, Slay realized he had left Rowena alone, unprotected, with a vindictive son of a bitch ready to drop her in Tycho Vega’s lap.
Fuck. I should have apologized.
This was exactly the kind of shit that used to get him in trouble in Ash Valley, the reason people had been so sure he’d start a war if he presided over the conclave. If only I could hit pause on my brain, give it a minute to catch up before I start running my mouth.
The box was basically what it sounded like, a small stone room that was perfectly square, only two by two, barely big enough for him to stretch out. The ceiling was low too. He could barely manage to do press-ups, though if they caught him they’d add time. He was supposed to reflect on what he’d done wrong, not exercise.
During his stint in solitary, they only gave enough water to keep him alive, no food. And the last time he was here, he started hallucinating toward the end. He’d rather have Pru yell at him than see his dead mother because Ma always came looking as she had at the moment of her death, so torn up from the bombs that the mortician had to piece her back together.
Fuck. Stop thinking about it.
But it was impossible to stem the tide of bitterness. After the bombs went off and his mom died, Pru and Dom didn’t check in with him. Not even once. Mags did, but she was busy. Hell, everyone was, but people who cared made time, right? Slay didn’t even know if Dom and Pru could still be considered his friends, all things considered. It seemed like seeing him made them feel guilty, and fuck, they should.
Nothing about it had been right from his point of view, but he could also see why Pru thought the way she did. To be fair, he had rejected her. They hadn’t been together in the same way since that day. He just hadn’t realized their relationship was broken past the point of fixing until she came back smelling like his best friend. It would make Slay feel better if Dom and Pru didn’t fit so fucking well together, like Slay had been the obstacle who didn’t realize he should step aside years ago.
Grim thoughts took him, pulled him under. He lost all sense of time for a while because it was dark and maybe he slept. When he opened his eyes, it was completely disorienting since the box looked the same as the back of his eyelids.
Am I asleep? Awake? Who fucking knows?
Slay could hear dripping water and the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears.
And then Pru spoke right beside him. He could even smell her soft, familiar scent. “When will you let me go?”
“I did a long time ago,” he lied.
“That’s not true or I wouldn’t be here now. You know that I’m right.”
He scowled. Even in a hallucination, he couldn’t win an argument with this woman. “What am I supposed to do? I loved you my whole life. How can I just…stop?”
“Did you, though? Or did we become a habit that was hard to break? It can be tough knowing when to give up, but there’s no shame in realizing that something can’t work no matter how much you want it to. You and me, we didn’t fit. I wanted it. You wanted it. But we had an expiration date. Please stop blaming yourself. I wasn’t brave enough when I needed to be. Neither were you. And we both made choices that led us here.”
“I miss you,” he whispered. “And I miss Dom. That’s what sucks most of all. I don’t even know if you care anymore.”
“We do,” she assured him. “And we want you to come home. You’re part of our family. Dom feels sick about what we did to you, and it won’t get better until you tell him personally that we can get past this.”
This was the realest talk he’d ever had with Pru. Maybe, just maybe, he was ready to believe her. That relationship failed and it wasn’t entirely his fault, not all hers either. Together, we fucked it up. And now it’s done.
A sliver dislodged from his heart in that moment, and as if it meant something, the door swung wide, letting in a crack of light. “Crawl out, no sudden moves.”
“Has it been two days already? I was just getting cozy,” he joked.
The guard slammed his weapon against the floor. “Trying to be funny, asshole?”
“Sorry, I won’t do it again.” This time. He complied with all instructions, shaky as fuck from the long stretch without food.
Slay had to keep a lid on his temper and his mouth, as he skirted perilously close to the point where he wouldn’t be able to shift. The idea of being forcibly separated from his jaguar aspect filled him with anguish. In this head, the big cat paced, already beyond distress at the current situation. But they’d already tried biting and clawing their out.
This time he didn’t say a word as the guards marched him through the undercity. And when they shoved him into the shared dorm, Rowena caught him, bracing him when he had trouble staying on his feet.