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  “You could have gotten yourself killed,” Cade said after a few minutes. He sat up and crawled to the curb.

  I followed. “Yeah. You, too.”

  He stretched out his leg and rotated his ankle. He hadn’t broken it, but no doubt had incurred a bad sprain from me wrenching it free from the bars. Overall, he wasn’t in great shape. The swelling in his eye had gotten slightly better, but the bruising on his face was darker. At least his nose had stopped bleeding. “Can I ask you something?” he said.

  “If I say no, aren’t you just going to ask me anyway?”

  He laughed. “Why did you do it?”

  “Assuming you mean save you?”

  He nodded.

  “I’d like to think you would have done the same thing for me if our positions had been reversed.”

  “Of course.”

  “’Sides, if I let anything happen to you, Noah would be a permanent pain in my ass—not to mention Kori. That chick is scrappy as fuck.”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  I stood and hitched a thumb over my shoulder. Sitting here, especially dressed the way we were, was going to attract too much attention eventually. “Sightseeing?”

  “Sightseeing” was what Cade called getting a feel for the place. Saying or doing the wrong thing could be disastrous, he’d insisted on multiple occasions. Following his simple rules assured that we didn’t commit some sort of disastrous faux pas.

  Cade had a lot of rules.

  I stuffed both hands into my pockets as we started walking. “Listen, about earlier…”

  “It’s not—”

  “I’m sorry.” I wasn’t the type to apologize, but I hadn’t really meant to lay into him like I had. This bomb inside my head was getting worse. I grew more and more unstable with each passing day. “You should have fought back. Your punches were weak, and I know damn well you’re not a pushover.”

  He was quiet, and I just figured he’d let the conversation die. Cade wasn’t a man of many words, and I was fine with that. I wasn’t a damn chatterbox myself. But after a few minutes, he said, “I’m sorry, too. I know you’re not my brother. You didn’t commit all those violent crimes. You don’t deserve what Cora did to you. I’m—”

  “How do you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “How do you know that I don’t deserve it?” I stopped walking and turned to him. There was definitely a resemblance between us. We had the same squared chin, the same dark hair and eyes. But when I looked into his, it was obvious that we were nothing alike on the inside. “For all you know, I could have been just as bad, if not worse, than your brother.”

  He snorted. “You saved me. Dylan wouldn’t have done that.”

  “Ever? Even before things turned sour between you two, you’re telling me he would have left you to die?”

  “Probably not—but there’s no way to know for sure. My brother has always been…off.”

  “Don’t buy it. Sorry.”

  “You’re rough around the edges because you’ve been through hell. I get it. But I believe you’re a good person underneath it all. Someone who does the right thing.”

  He sounded convinced. Me? Nope. I knew better than that. I’d tried to tell Sera once. In the dark, during one of my weaker moments…

  …

  “What do you suppose landed us here?” Sera had been quiet tonight, and I was grateful for the sound of her voice now.

  I snorted, then flinched when the action caused a spasm of pain. “Really, really bad luck?” Today had been one of the harder days in a while. Cora had kept me up in the lab hours longer than usual.

  She snickered, a soft sound that had me desperately trying to picture what she might look like. “I’m being serious. You think it was random?”

  Sera might have ended up here by way of random bad luck, but me? No damn way. I was here for one reason and one reason only. “What if it wasn’t?” Involuntarily, my voice dropped. “What if there was a specific purpose?”

  “What could it have been, though? Something to do with genetics? Blood type?”

  My intent was to confess that I was there in that cell because the universe had deemed me worthy of such punishment. I’d been a monster in my old life. A heartless solider who’d spilled more blood than Cora ever would. But I couldn’t push the words out—for a couple of reasons.

  First, I didn’t want Sera to start thinking she might be here because karma was kicking her ass for something she’d done. True or not, I knew the thought would fester and slowly eat away at her. And second, I didn’t think I’d survive in here if she knew what kind of a bastard I’d been. This place was hell, but it was oddly comforting not to have all the hate in the room directed at me. For once.

  …

  “So, what now? Do we try to find them?”

  He’d stopped walking to stare at something over my shoulder. “Um…”

  I spun to see what was so damn interesting and froze. There across the street, exiting one of the buildings, was Cora Anderson. There were apparently endless versions of the bitch floating around out there, but I’d know the one that kept us captive anywhere.

  I lunged forward, but Cade snatched my arm and hauled me around the side of the nearest building. I clamped down on the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping at him.

  “Hang on!” He held tight, and we watched as she rounded the corner and disappeared. I was about to take a swing at him when the door to the building opened again. Dylan and Sera stepped out. They walked a few feet then stopped. It looked like they were arguing.

  “Sera…” I started forward again, and again, Cade grabbed me.

  “Whoa. We can’t just charge in there.”

  I jerked away. “Why the hell not?”

  “We have the advantage here.”

  “What advantage? He’s there. She’s there. This is what we’ve been waiting for. What’s the fucking problem?” This was cut and dried from where I was standing. The best chance we’d had in a while—and he wanted to take it slow?

  “We need to know what’s going on before we charge in there. If Dylan is working with Cora—”

  “Why the hell would she be working with him? He can’t possibly have anything to offer her. Cora wants Sera. Unless Dylan has done a one-eighty, I doubt that’s something he’s willing to give.”

  “You’re underestimating my brother. He’s resourceful and will do anything if it means keeping Ava.”

  Anything to keep Ava…

  “She’s sick. Sera. Cora did something to her…”

  Cade gave a small nod. “Maybe she offered a solution. Look—” He nodded across the street. “She’s left—without Ava. There’s more to this than we know.”

  “But in exchange for what?” Anything Cora Anderson put on the table would be for her benefit and her benefit alone.

  Cade looked as skeptical as I felt. “Let’s find out.”

  They started walking, and we followed far behind, careful to stay out of sight. It killed me, being so damn close yet unable to act. They took their time, waltzing down the street as though they had no place else to be. Dylan hadn’t restrained Sera in any way, but I could tell by her walk, and the rigid set of her shoulders, that she wanted to be anywhere but there. He tried several times to engage her in conversation. She didn’t seem interested in whatever it was he had to say.

  A few blocks from where they’d started, the pair stopped in front of a large storefront. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they appeared to be arguing again. I was about to step in when Dylan did the last thing I’d expect. He walked into the building—and left Sera outside. Alone. I was done being patient. This was my chance and I was taking it.

  “G, wait.” There was more to Cade’s plea, but I blocked it out and darted across the street.

  Chapter Seven

  Sera

  “Sera!”

  My pulse quickened, and I held my breath as I turned toward the sound of footsteps stomping against the pavement. “G.” A ple
a, a prayer, a cry of anguish against all the crap we’d been through.

  I rushed to meet him, making it to the edge of the sidewalk as he got to my side of the street. He pulled up short, stopping a few feet away from me. I did the same, and for a moment, neither of us moved. Neither spoke. There was a nagging whisper in my head. A voice that kept pleading for me to… I had no idea. Nothing mattered in that moment. Nothing except the fact that he was here. He’d found me.

  We were face to face…

  He came a single step closer, gaze never leaving mine. His shoulders were taut, his entire body rigid. “Tell me that you’re okay.”

  His voice was low and held the faintest off-pitch note. I’d gotten so accustomed to his moods by simply listening to him speak. I matched his step with one of my own, forcing my hands to stay at my sides. All I wanted to do was touch him. His face. His arms. His hands… Any place we could connect physically, so I could prove to myself that he was really there and not some figment of my fragmented brain. “I’m okay,” I whispered, hoping it was loud enough for him to hear.

  He came another step closer, lifting his hand then hesitating and letting it fall slack at his side. “I’ve been looking. Since he took you, I’ve been—” He lifted his hand again, but instead of reaching out to me, his fingers curled into a fist. A shudder went through him, and he closed his eyes tight. When he opened them, my breath caught at the fierceness I saw there. “You know I wouldn’t have stopped, right? I would have kept going until I found you.”

  I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I took his fist between my hands and held it, coaxing his fingers to relax. His skin was warm and felt right against mine in a way I couldn’t imagine anything else feeling. “I never doubted it. I knew you’d find me.”

  He deflated some, the tension lifting like a ten-ton rock from around his neck. His shoulders slumped, and he inhaled deeply. “He left you alone? Why didn’t you run?”

  I gave his hand one final squeeze, then sighed. “And go where? I have no chip, so…”

  “So, without him, I could never find you.”

  Behind me, something squealed, and a door chime rang, bringing reality crashing back with jarring force.

  Someone laughed, and when I turned, Dylan was leaning casually against the building, grinning like a madman. He took a sip from the cup in his hand then waved it in my direction. “Oh. No. Don’t let me interrupt. You were about to say…?”

  “This is done.” G moved to stand beside me. He was coiled and ready to strike. “She’s coming with me.”

  Dylan didn’t answer right away. He looked around then turned in a slow circle. “Where’s the gang? I don’t even rate the entourage anymore?”

  G balled his fist and stepped between us. In all the times I’d tried to imagine his face, the movements of his body and subtle mannerisms that belonged just to him, I’d never pictured him so fierce. It was funny, since I knew, even back in that cell, he was a force to be reckoned with, but seeing it in action was so much more intense than hearing it. “It’s just you and me.”

  “Sounds like a good time.” Dylan held up his hands in surrender, but I knew better. He grinned at me, then focused on G. “Tell you what. How about we ask the lady here who she’d like to go with? Sera—who would you prefer?”

  G faltered, looking from Dylan to me, then back again. His lips parted, and his brows lifted, then disappeared beneath his hair. “You can’t be serious.”

  Dylan winked. “Go ahead, be honest. Who would you like to go with? Me or imposter me?”

  G was confused. He kept alternating between Dylan and me, tense, as though waiting for some sneak attack. The possibility that I’d pick Dylan over him wasn’t even in the top one hundred thoughts going through his mind right now.

  I hated to do it…

  “I’d like to go with G,” I said. His expression relaxed into a smug grin.

  G flipped Dylan off and threaded his fingers through mine. The contact was an even mixture of electrifying and comforting…

  …

  “We’ve never seen each other, but you’re the most real thing in my life.”

  He snorted. The sound echoed through the cell. “That’s not saying much. You know that, right? And really, are you sure? Because the smell in here is pretty damn real sometimes.”

  I smiled. It wasn’t his words but his tone. I slipped my arm through the bars at the corner of his cell. Somehow, he knew. He did the same thing at the same moment. I saw the shadow on the floor in front of the cell. Just out of reach. I stretched, pushing my entire body against the bars until the pain made my eyes water, then let out a frustrated cry. I could almost feel the warmth coming off his skin.

  A grunt, followed by a low curse. His shadow hand fell slack, clattering against the bars of his cell. “I know how you feel.” Something slammed the wall. “Ever notice how they won’t even let us see each other? They take me out the door on my end, and you out the other.”

  “Just another way for Cora to get into our heads.”

  He was quiet for a few minutes before clearing his throat. “My hands have calluses. They’re rough. Scarred.”

  “No calluses for me, but I do have a scar. On my right thumb. Looks like it might be from a burn or something. The skin is weird. A different pattern than the rest.”

  Material rustled, and in the hall in front of my cell, I caught sight of G’s shadow again.

  I slipped my arm through the bars and stretched toward him. Even though I knew I couldn’t reach. Even though it was impossible. “I’d give anything just to touch you.”

  …

  Now that I’d finally gotten what I wanted, I had to pull away—and I hated it.

  “But I have to stay with Dylan,” I finished, cringing as G’s face went from triumphant to perplexed. Then, from perplexed to hurt.

  “No, Sera.” He took both my hands in his and shook his head. Just once. “Whatever it is you think he has on you, it’s crap. It’s a lie. A trick to make you think—”

  “Cora gave—” Dylan caught my attention and gave the smallest shake of his head while patting his pocket. The same pocket he’d slipped Cora’s kill device into. I couldn’t go with G, and Dylan wouldn’t let me tell him the truth, either. My making the choice to stay with Dylan, even though he’d have to know I had a good reason, hurt G—which is what Dylan wanted.

  I stepped back, trying to block out the desperation I heard in G’s voice. A step closer to Dylan. I refused to look at him, but I knew if I did, I’d see that same smug expression that I loathed. The one I’d been forced to endure for almost a month now. “You have to trust me.”

  I didn’t know my family or where I’d come from. I didn’t remember when my birthday was. The one thing I did know was G. Better than anything—which is why, hurt or not, I should have known he’d never just walk away.

  His expression turned stony, and he squared his shoulders. He stepped to Dylan, stopping inches away. It was strange seeing them face-to-face like that. Two sides of the same coin, one blackened and foul, the other cracked with bits of shine showing through.

  “I don’t give a shit what she says, she’s not leaving with you. And on the off chance you do manage to somehow take her, then rest assured that it’s only temporary. Because I won’t give up.” G’s arms were stiff at his sides, fists balled so tight that his knuckles had gone white. “I will never stop.”

  Dylan wasn’t threatened. In fact, he started laughing. He gave G a brutal shove. G stumbled back but held his ground. “You’re me, so I know. There’s no need to try and convince me. What do you think started this whole mess? I’m right where you are. I don’t intend to let her go.” He tapped the side of his head, his grin growing wider. “We’re flawed, man. Fucked in the head, with lots of little loose pieces banging around inside. You don’t remember yourself, so let me give you a little reminder—you’re an asshole. A self-serving, sadistic jackass who only cares about himself—and Ava. She’s the one thing—the only thing—on this mise
rable rock that means anything. I would do anything to get her back. Just like I know you’d do the same. I can’t have you getting in my way. I won’t.”

  Both boys looked at me, and a horrible knot formed in my stomach. Dylan had the device Cora had given him out of his pocket, finger hovering above the small button, before I could even blink.

  “Dylan, don’t…”

  For half a second, he almost looked sorry. It didn’t last, though. That tiny glimmer of humanity morphed into something hard and cruel, and without a single word, he pushed the button.

  Chapter Eight

  G

  Sera’s skin turned ashen, and Dylan looked smug. There was an object in his hand. Something I assumed was significant in some way, considering the shit-eating grin on the bastard’s face. When nothing happened, though, he lost that grin. “Well, that’s a goddamned letdown,” he said. “She promised me—”

  Whatever it was he said next was lost to an agonized sound. One coming from my own damn mouth. Everything grew hazy, and it felt like there was someone inside my head trying to rip their way out. I clawed at my skull, desperate to stop it. I was vaguely aware my knees had buckled, and that I was on my back, on the ground. There was a foul taste in my mouth, coppery with a tang of sweetness. I gagged and coughed, making the pressure in my head ten times worse.

  Dylan laughed. “That’s more like it.” A pause. “Ava, let’s go.”

  Sera had dropped to her knees and was beside me, my head in her lap and her clinging to my shoulders. Every few seconds, a small tremor pulsed through me, though she kept my body as steady as she could. Slowly, the pain started to ebb. With each second that passed, it lessened until it became a dull ache that made my eyes water just a bit.

  I struggled into a sitting position, and when I was steady, Sera stood. She positioned herself in front of me, legs spread and fists at the ready. Protecting me. “One more step and I’ll kill you.”

  “With what? That cute little glare of yours?”