20. William

20

WILLIAM

S ince meeting Emily, I’ve never regretted trusting her as much as I do right now.

There’s no doubt we made the wrong choice to surrender rather than choosing to fight to the death. It would have been a close victory with Griffin’s state, but there’s no doubt we would have won. Especially if Zoey was telling the truth about most of the townspeople not trusting that Richard guy.

Of course, the only reason we didn’t fight them is because of Emily. It’s hard as fuck to say no to her.

Locked up in this cell, our weapons taunting us from the table outside the bars, we’re helpless to do anything about her situation, or even our own. We should have listened to her advice to wait things out, but now we’re boxed in, and she’s out there facing this mess alone.

I slide my hand into my pocket and run my finger along the edge of her compass. I haven’t had a chance to give it back to her yet. This whole ‘being arrested’ thing sort of put a damper on that. I should have given it to her when we found her again, but I was so elated to have her in my arms again that I forgot .

Everything has been quiet since they locked the cell door. The silence stretches thick, broken only by the steady scrape of Griffin’s carving knife. Somehow, he managed to hold on to that small blade when they unarmed us. It’s not the right shape or size for the key lock. We’ve already tried that. So, he’s been using it to whittle a new flower out of a piece of wood he still had stashed in his bag. The broken pieces from the first one lay discarded by his feet.

He looked so defeated when that wooden flower was crushed. It wound up broken beyond repair, but he’s been working on this new one ever since we found her and she passed out. It’s the only thing keeping him from losing his shit right now. Now he has plenty of time to work on it, because I doubt we’re getting out of here anytime soon.

Max paces in the tight space. Well, it’s not pacing so much as turning around back and forth. The cell is small, and not meant to hold three people for long.

Still, he keeps moving, muttering under his breath and eyeing every corner of the cell. I can see his mind running a hundred miles an hour, trying to come up with a plan and muttering something about Debbie.

As for me, I’m focusing on staying calm, which is made difficult by the nagging tightness in my chest. The room is tiny, yes, but the bars open out into a wide area, and there’s a window nearby. I have to keep reminding myself of that, anything to avoid spiraling into another panic attack right here in front of everyone. The last thing I need is for those guards, or Richard, to witness that.

Max breaks the quiet with a sharpness to his voice. “Do you even care about getting out of here and getting back to our girl, or is carving a fucking flower the only thing that matters to you right now?”

Griffin’s knife stills mid-scrape, and his eyes narrow without looking up. “Accuse me for not giving a shit about her one more time and I’ll stick this in your neck. ”

Max stoops down and leans forward with his forearms on his thighs. “I think you’re more worried about your little arts-and-crafts project than about getting back to Emily. I think you don’t give a shit about her. If you did, then you wouldn’t act like this is some sort of fucked up vacation.”

Griffin rises to his feet, every muscle in his body coiled with tension, the carving knife gripped tight in his fist when he lunges. I’m just quick enough, stepping between them with my hands against Griffin’s chest, bracing with all my strength to hold him back.

We’re all pretty evenly matched when it comes down to it.

“Killing each other won’t solve anything,” I snap, forcing Griffin to step back, but there’s barely an inch of space between his back and the bars. “Or are you really so desperate to take it out on each other instead of actually getting out of here?”

“Would solve him being a dick,” Griffin growls.

“Jealous, are we?” Max’s smirk is infuriatingly unhelpful, but his next words are sharper than the knife in Griffin’s hand. “Not my fault you’re the only one who hasn’t given her anything but a peck on the lips.”

Griffin strains against my hold, shoving so hard that I nearly lose my balance. With a final push, I manage to twist his arm behind him, holding him face first against the bars. Max leans back against the wall, smirking as if this is all a fun little game. I glare at him. “You, shut up. You’re not helping anything.”

“Sure, I am,” Max says. “Let him go. Maybe we’ll bust the door open if we tumble around enough.”

“You think this is funny?” I ask, struggling to keep Griffin restrained.

“Why not? It’s the only entertainment I have right now.”

“You’re not helping, Max.” I fight to keep my grip on Griffin, who’s putting all his weight into breaking free .

“Serves you both right. You two got us thrown in here, after all,” Max adds.

“What about you?” Griffin growls with a sneer. “They didn’t look too thrilled with you, either, or the problems you created, like always. You’re stuck in here with us too, aren’t you?”

“I said I was handling it. I was doing what needed to be done.” Max’s expression darkens. “That leader Dick guy, he shoved her.”

“We know,” I say.

“Then he raised his hand to hit her. I was the one who got there first, and I had every intention of finishing it before you two idiots showed up and made us look like we’re all hotheads.”

Griffin’s whole stance shifts, his rage laser focused as he glares at Max. “He what?”

Max pushes off the wall and stands up straight. “Exactly what I said. He shoved her, and then he raised his hand to hit her. Now we need to get out of here so I can kill the guy.”

Griffin lets out a low growl and clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white. My anger flared, my hold loosening at the thought of him touching her. I crack my knuckles. I want to kill that guy, too.

We don’t need to say the words to know that we’re all in agreement on this. We’re not leaving Emily behind in this place. Not without us.

Not ever.

Now all we need to do is figure out how to get out of a locked cell.