Page 169 of Romancing in Rot

Then Poppy inhales beside me. Sharp. Terrified.

The pieces slam together.

The gasp in the woods. The pain exploding across the back of my skull. The way Poppy screamed right before the world went black.

My blood turns to ice, then fire.

“Russ.”

His name scrapes out of me.

Poppy stiffens beside me.

Russ’s jaw tightens. “Clair.”

Hearing my name in his mouth makes my skin crawl.

The leader pauses and looks between us with interest. “Well, well. This just got more personal.”

I step closer to the fence, fingers curling through the chain-link. “You hit me.”

Russ looks away.

Of course he does. Always brave when my back is turned. Always loud when someone smaller is cornered. Always suddenly quiet when he has to look at what he’s done.

“You hit me,” I say again, quieter now.

His gaze cuts back to mine. “You weren’t supposed to be there.”

A laugh tears out of me. Ugly. Humorless. “That’s your defense?”

“You always did have a talent for putting yourself in the middle of things and then acting shocked when they went bad.”

There he is.

The man behind the mask. Small. Mean. Cowardly in all the places that matter.

I press closer to the fence. “Get her out.”

His mouth flattens.

“Russ,” I snap. “Get Poppy out of here. I don’t care what happens to me, but you get your daughter out of this cage.”

Poppy’s hand finds the back of my shirt.

Russ shifts his weight. “I can’t do that.”

“Bullshit. You can. You just don’t want to.”

His neck goes red. “Don’t make this my fault.”

Another laugh bursts out of me. “How dare I blame you for hitting me over the head and helping lock our daughter in a cage. Really, Russ. My mistake.”

A few of the cannibals laugh.

Russ’s eyes harden. He hates being laughed at. Hates being seen even more.

The leader watches us like we’re his favorite part of the show.