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I step towards him, my fist balled on either side of me.
“Noooo!” He quickly throws his hands out. “Not like that. We just danced. I didn’t touch her or
anything.” I relax back, cracking my neck from the tension. He stares at me blankly. “But why do you
care, Raze?”
“I don’t care in the way you’re implying I care, Miles.”
He drops back down to the sofa, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “I don’t know what
you want with me, with her.” He shakes his head before leaning back on the sofa. “That girl isn’t lost,
Raze. She’s exactly where she wants to be, that’s what makes her so lethal. She doesn’t need to be
found because she’s not actually fucking lost. She’s just… absent.”
I step toward him, taking a seat on the single sofa. “For her to help me, she needs to need it, or
want it, or this won’t work.”
Miles shakes his head, leaning forward and snatching the bottle from me. “That’s where you’re
wrong. She will help you so she can get out of here. That,” Miles points upstairs, “isn’t your problem.
Get what you need and set her free.”
I lean back, my index finger gliding over my upper lip. He has a point, but I have too much risk
running on my part for one thing to slip past me. One little error on anyone’s part will fuck this up and
it will be the end of everything. I can’t risk that.
“Fine,” I lean forward, taking the bottle back from him. He’s clearly had too much to drink and I
need Miles alert at all times. There’s a reason why I preserve him; you don’t send your best soldiers
out for bullshit battles. You save them for when you really need them. Use them as your trump card. Miles is my trump card. In our world, the devil doesn’t come wearing horns and a trident. He comes wearing an immaculate suit and sometimes a mask. “But I need her in a better place than she is in now before I take the next step in this. There’s too much at risk. We have the Yakuza on our ass, who’ve
also risked a fucking lot by going with me on this.”
“True,” Miles responds, sitting forward and resting on his elbows. “I don’t think there is any part
of her to save though, Raze. She’s tortured, in a way. Whatever you all did to her, twisted her head
enough to make her not recognize what is reality and what isn’t at times.”
“I knew her before she came here. She cried for days on end in the dungeon. Never seen a chick
cry that much, mainly because I’d kill her before it got that bad.” I take a sip of my drink, letting the
flaming liquid set my throat on fire. “But then one day she just stopped. I saw it and I recognized it.” I
place the bottle back onto the table and look at Miles. “One month. One month to tame her in some
way. Enough that I won’t run the risk of having to put a bullet in her anyway.”
Miles watches me closely, standing to his feet.
