Page 42 of Glutton for Punishment

Something in my chest shifts at her protectiveness, but this is her way out, and there’s no way Ryker is going against his own faction by freeing me.

“You need to go,” I tell her, forcing the words out. “This isn’t a situation where you can afford to be stubborn. Get out, go where I told you. That’s the priority.”

She knows I mean Maddox, and my stomach sinks even further at the thought.

“I’m not leaving you here,” she shoots back, her voice rising despite herself. “They will kill you. It’s not happening.”

Then she turns back to Ryker, expression hardening.

“You take both of us, or I scream. Loud enough that every guard hears it before we even make it out of this floor. Then I’ll spill your entire ‘takeover’ plan to your father. We’ll see how that plays in your favor when it comes to power.”

Silence stretches between them as he looks at me, irritated. Then swears under his breath and pulls out another key.

“Fine,” he mutters. “You’re a pain in my ass, Princess.”

My cell unlocks a second later.

“Move,” he adds, already turning toward the door. “We don’t have time to argue about it.”

The hallway outside is as she described. It’s empty, sterile and quiet. No guards in sight this time, though.

I stay close to her without thinking, my hand finding hers and holding on, grounding myself just as much as her. She doesn’t pull away, which gives me hope that maybe I’m earning her trust.

The elevator doors seal with a soft hiss. No one speaks. Ryker’s keycard chirps against the reader before he presses the button for the top floor. His jaw set, eyes fixed on the polished metal doors.

“You always carry dungeon keys with you?” Arwen asks after a moment, her tone dry despite everything.

I let out a quick breath, “I’m guessing he has some lame power that lets him duplicate objects or someone did it for him.”

“Spare me your attempts at guessing my power,” he mutters drily. Clearly upset with how events have unfolded. He’s not playing the fake white knight on my watch.

The doors open to a rush of wind and noise.

The helicopter blades are already spinning, loud enough to drown out thought as the skyline stretches endlessly around us—tower after tower of glass and light, the full excess of Greed laid bare from above.

Arwen slows, taking it in, her breathing hitching. She turns in a slow 360, mouth gaping as the neon lights of a nearby 3D advertisement reflect off her face.

I tighten my grip on her hand. It’s not that impressive.

Ryker turns back to us, raising his voice over the noise. “I need to know where you’re going.”

“That’s not happening,” I respond.

He exhales, pushing the hair back from his face.

“I’m getting you out of here, aren’t I? That pilot answers to me, not you—and he’s already risking his ass for me. So unless you want him to leave without you, tell me where. Right now.”

I glance at Arwen. She’s still staring out at the skyline, overwhelmed for just a second before she steadies herself again.

“Gluttony,” I say.

Ryker stills, nodding his head, something unreadable crossing his expression. “…So it’s true.”

I don’t respond.

He turns away, looking resigned, and heads toward the pilot to relay instructions. I follow, pulling Arwen with me, making sure I hear every word.

Trust isn’t an option here.