Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Everleigh
I know better than to try and pretend I’m still asleep. My mind is too busy monitoring their conversation to actually sleep anyway.
I swear their bickering feels like it lasts forever.
Dante knows what we have to do to push him over the rails, I just am not sure why he hasn’t done it yet. Maybe it was the confusion on how to see Finnic.
Friend or foe. Partner or rival.
At this point, he could be both.
I stretch as much as I can considering my ankles and wrists are still bound together tightly but there isn’t much relief where that stands.
I turn my head at the sound of the door opening.
Finnic comes in alone this time, shoulders filling the frame like he hasn’t decided whether to actually enter or leave.
I adjust to a sitting position the best I can before saying, “You’re going to get a crick in your neck staring like that.”
He continues to stare at me but doesn’t respond. He then shuts the door behind him.
“I’m surprised you’re not trying to catch up on some sleep,” he mutters.
I let out a quiet laugh. “You say that like I’d feel safe enough to do so.”
His eyes flick to the bindings around my limbs, but he looks away just as fast.
“So,” I say lightly, testing him. “Which one have you decided to be today?”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“You seem to be switching back and forth between the villain and the hero role. A little bipolar, if you ask me.”
His jaw tightens.
After a moment, he exhales and drags a hand down his mask-covered face like he is already exhausted with me. “You don’t get to psychoanalyze me.”
“Funny,” I reply. “Because you both seem very invested in doing that to me.”
That earns me a scowl.
He steps closer, stopping just out of reach. Close enough that I can see his blonde eyelashes from where I sit.
“I’m not even sure what we’re still doing here,” he says quietly.
I tilt my head. “Aren’t you supposed to be equal to kidnapper number one?”
His brows furrow together. “We are equal.”
I let out a soft scoff. “Doesn’t seem that way to me.”
He shakes his head. “You’re just trying to get in my head. He said you’d try to do that.”
“I’m not trying to break up whatever cute relationship you two have, I’m sure there’s a lot of trust there,” I then go on to clarify. “I’m just saying I noticed that you didn’t seem to be quite as informed on the situation as he was.”
He laughs uncomfortably. “So he doesn’t mention something to me once and now we’re at odds?”
“You said it, not me.”
He stares at me for a long moment.
Then he laughs again, but bitterly this time. “You’re real ballsy.”
I shrug as best I can with my restraints. “Maybe, but you know I’m right.”
That shuts his ass up real quick.
So much so that he moves to the wall opposite of me and leans against it, folding his arms across his chest defensively.
“You don’t know anything,” he says finally.
I hum and reply, “You say that but I can tell it’s eating away at you with how out of the loop you are.”
His eyes snap to mine.
“You think I’m being kept out of the loop?” he asks.
“It’s possible,” I say nonchalantly, like we’re discussing the weather.
“You don’t know him and I well enough to say that’s possible.”
I tilt my head at him. “I don’t have to know you. I watch and notice things, which I’m sure he’s told you by now. Politician’s daughter and all, I had to learn that skill real quick.”
He pushes off the wall, taking a few steps toward me.
“And what else have you noticed?” he asks.
“That he talks to you like you’re a toddler,” I say. “Not a partner. That he tells you what to do, and doesn’t tell you what’s actually happening. And that every time he’s questioning me, you don’t step in because you worry about him correcting you.”
His jaw flexes.
“You hesitate,” I continue. “And for someone in your line of work, that’s very surprising.”
He takes the last few steps to be in front of me and crouches down, forearms braced against his thighs. We are close enough now that I can see the faint shadows under his eyes. Lack of sleep probably. We’ve been here for a few days now and I have barely slept myself.
“You think you’re clever,” he says quietly.
“I think you’re curious if I’m right,” I counter. “And that scares you just a bit.”
His hand lifts, fingers brushing the zip-ties at my wrist. I am not sure if he is testing boundaries to see if I’ll flinch away from him or give in.
I definitely don’t flinch away, but I still make sure the smallest bit of fear shows in the rest of my body language.
Our eyes fight to win dominance. His baby blues bore into mine, seemingly unafraid.
As his fingers drift from the zip-ties and down to my skin, they softly run down the side of my hand. But the feeling of his hand on mine disappears as he stands abruptly, turning away like the air between us has become poison.
He drags a hand over the top of his head, as if he were pushing hair out of his face. He then starts to pace back and forth.
“You think you’re the first person to try this?” he says.
“To try what?” I stutter out, still in shock about the weird feeling that settles in my chest.
“The first to try and wedge us apart.”
“I think I’m the first one who didn’t have to try,” I shoot back.
He stops pacing and turns to face me again.
Somewhere in the building, metal groans from the heavy winter winds outside and time seems to stretch for a long period.
“You talk too much,” he says.
He doesn’t sound angry. He just seems exhausted from the back and forth. Which is funny since I feel like I could do this all night, even with the lack of sleep.
“That’s funny,” I murmur. “You’re the one still standing here letting me talk. Don’t you guys have a roll of tape somewhere in this creepy ass place?”
His eyes flick to the door, then back to me.
He for sure thought about it.
“You think this results in your happy ending?” he asks.
“I think everything ends,” I reply. “Endings are inevitable.”
Before he can reply, footsteps echo faintly outside the room.
Finnic straightens instantly, every trace of vulnerability snapping shut like a trap. He opens the door just as Dante’s steps near even closer.
Before he steps out, Finnic looks back at me one last time.
I lean back against the wall, heart pounding, wrists aching against the restraints.
It is written all over him as he lingers in the doorway, like a thought has finally clicked into place.
The faith he has in Dante is starting to erode, and once doubt takes hold, it’s hard to get rid of it.