Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Monsters. Every last one of them.
Silence descended on the room that held their cells. It was a few minutes before he finally heard Ty moving, probably going to check what garbage they’d brought for them to eat. The man had become his anchor, the thread binding his sanity together. They didn’t talk often. Ty didn’t seem like the type to make idle chitchat but preferred to keep to himself.
“Eat,” Ty barked from the other side of the wall. “You’ve gotta keep up your strength.”
A hint of a smirk tugged the left corner of Shey’s mouth higher. He would rather have starved, but Ty made a good point. The only way they were both going to escape this hell was by keeping their strength up and looking for an opportunity to break out.
Shey grabbed his tray, glancing briefly at the contents, and took it to the wall that separated his and Ty’s cells. He sat against the cold wall painted stark white and set the tray next to him. He smirked at the roll on his tray. Ty’s favorite.
“Hey,” he called out and stuck his hand through the bars, holding out the entire roll. “More shitty coffee?”
“Yeah. It’s like they think they’re going to break me over coffee.” Ty stuck his hand out to take the roll. Their fingers brushed, and a tiny shock ran between them. Ty yelped but didn’t lose the bread as he drew his hand back. “What the hell? They put carpeting in your cell? Rubbing your feet on it to shock me for shits and giggles?”
“Sorry,” Shey winced. This had to be because his emotions were running high. He had to get himself under control, or he was going to make the one friend he had in this place suspicious. “No carpeting. I guess I’m a magnet for trouble.”
Ty snorted. “Idiot. Don’t give me your entire roll.” A moment later, Ty held out half the roll by his fingertips, making sure there was as much of the bread as possible for Shey to grasp.
“Keep it. I’m using it as a bribe to find out if you’ve thought of any way to get out of here yet.”
There was a low groan, and Ty shook the bread more insistently. “Now you have to take the other half, because I haven’t thought of anything. Just don’t shock me again.”
This time, Shey’s grin came out in full force as he accepted half of the roll. He still had no idea if Ty was truly another prisoner or simply a plant to capture the truth from him, but for now, he was willing to play along.
“So, you think they’re going to question me soon,” Shey stated.
“Very likely. Try not to kill any of them when it happens. That’ll bring more guards and more broken bones.”
Shey huffed a laugh. “I like your confidence. You really think I could?”
“The image of you killing multiple guards lulls me to sleep each night. Remember, we need an opening. Getting this room filled with guards won’t create that opening.”
“Do you think we’re still in Bellcairn?”
There was a long silence before Ty made a sound of disgust. “Horrible. Just horrible. The first thing I’m doing after I’m free is getting a nice dark-roasted blend and a scone. Preferably raspberry, but I’ll even settle for a blueberry muffin.”
“Ty?” Shey prodded.
“Bellcairn? Maybe. It’s risky. If someone were to escape, it would be much easier to disappear in such a busy city. Plus, there are more eyes. More chances of people noticing. Not that the citizens of Bellcairn care about things that don’t directly impact them. They’ve all learned to look the other way. My guess would be that we’re outside of Bellcairn, but I could be wrong.”
“I’m getting some sleep.”
Ty grunted. “Don’t forget to put some stuffing in your ears,” Ty reminded him.
Shey nodded even though the other man couldn’t see it. Right now, blocking Scarella’s voice was their only defense.
CHAPTER 8
Tyche
Tyche hesitated in the center of his cell, straining to hear any sounds beyond the heavy metal door. But there was nothing. Guards had taken Shawn from his cell a while ago, and Tyche had remained in his bunk, preferring to play dead rather than risking someone noticing that he was still alive and maybe he should be taken out at the same time.
He wasn’t too concerned about his prison mate. Shawn seemed like a stout, resilient sort. He’d be a little ragged afterward, but he wasn’t going to break. Not yet.
Once he was positive that he’d be left alone, he rushed to his bunk and pulled his hidden treasure out of the hole he’d dug in the mattress. He opened his hand, and the six sticks he’d carved out of chicken bones he’d collected during his stay lay on his palm.
Actual chicken bones. How freaking barbaric and crude could it get?