Page 33 of Chained

"Are you always this curious?" He raises a brow, sliding a lighter from his pocket as he starts to fumble with it.

"Are you always this deflective?"

"For someone in your position, you're awfully gobby," he deflects again, his gaze avoiding mine.

"What's wrong? Not a fan of women who fight back? You sick fucks prefer the smaller girls who'll sit sobbing? You're disgusting, you're all disgusting." Tears slip down my face. Fuck, am I crying? I didn't want to cry, I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be like Jade.

"You've no idea what you're talking about. You know nothing about me. You don't know how I got here or why I stay, so why don't you do you and your fucking friends who are still breathing a favour and shut your fucking mouth before someone hears your shouting and comes in here." He turns away, his body tense as he takes his face into both hands.

Flinching at his words that he spat at me like venom, I study him. Then I see it in his eyes, in the way his body won't relax. It's the same thing I saw at the warehouse, the pain. The guilt. It's consuming him. He doesn't want this life as much as I don't.

"You don't want to be here either…" I let the words fall out, my feet moving before I can stop myself. "Then why? Why do this?"

He doesn't turn, but his body comes to a complete still. He doesn't answer, I don't think he knows how.

"You hate it, too. I see it in your eyes."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he growls, still keeping his back to me. I take the opportunity to move closer, circling around until I'm standing in front of him.

His eyes meet mine, time standing still in this moment. I see him. I see his darkness. He can't hide it, I don't think he's even trying anymore.

"You're trapped." My voice is low, breathless.

"You don't—" His mouth snaps shut, eyes flickering over my shoulder. "I'm not⁠—"

Moving slowly in a psychotic attempt to take his hands, I cover mine over his. Thumbs gently stroke the veins that pop from his skin, his fists bound tightly. I keep my eyes on his, letting him see what I see. Letting him know that I understand what it feels like to be trapped in these walls, to have everything out of your control.

"Don't look at me like that." He pulls away, dragging a hand through his hair.

"Like what?"

"Like you know me. Like you see something that doesn't exist. You don't know what I do. You don't know my fucking darkness, and you should thank every fucking God that exists that you don't."

"I know that you hate what happened tonight. I can see it in your eyes." I fight back; he's cracking. This is it, the moment I've waited for. I have to take this chance before it's too late.

Footsteps begin to bound behind the door. This is it. My last chance.

Rushing to him again, I grab his hands. Stepping close into his space, my chest touches his just enough that he can feel the way my heart beats.

"I'm begging you, Ace. Help me escape. Help me leave, I'll do anything," I whisper urgently as the beat of my heart thuds in my ears like a train.

He stares at me with a haunted expression. I don't know if it's my pleas worming their way under his skin or the way our bodies connect in a way that feels inevitable.

There's a pause, a small beat of silence between us.

"I can't." His jaw tightens as the words tumble from his mouth. Every flicker of hope dies with his sentence. It's over, my last chance gone with the fucking wind.

The handle twists beside us, and the door slowly opens. He pushes me back—not hard, but enough to make space between us.

"Wait outside." Vincent's voice fills the silence as he steps inside. Suddenly, the room feels smaller in his presence. I watch as he moves, every step confident, every step making me hate him more than I already do.

Ace moves quickly, and I dare a glance. My eyes pleading, I almost cry out, almost beg him to stay—but I swallow it down. He meets my gaze, giving me a look that tells me he's sorry. But for what? The loss of my friend? For delivering me to the devil? For refusing to help when he's the only one who can?

Fuck your sorry. Fuck your pathetic attempt at an apology with your eyes. Fuck you for making me feel like you had a soul, like you and I were the same. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

The door closes behind him, and the air changes immediately. There's no place to hide now, no person to look to for safety. It's just me and the man who has stolen my life. Who killed a girl right in front of me. I refuse to break. Thankfully, after my confrontation with Ace, I feel stronger than before. Like the little box that held all the grief inside my head has finally snapped shut.

"I have to say, Amora, you surprised me tonight." Vincent's voice runs through me, his tone soft, but I know it's a lie. He moves to sit in his chair, nodding to the chair opposite.