Page 126 of Death is Familiar

On the other hand, if he was a figment of my imagination, Imaginary Todd should have obeyed me. It’s not like I wanted Todd to watch, and this definitely wasn’t the situation for it. But then again, not everything had to have a reason.

Oh, there’s a reason.

Ugh. My mind was being no help whatsoever. I just needed to get this over with. Focusing on my toes wriggling on the gritty ground, I yanked the strings that kept my gown up.

Holding the front of the gown to my chest, I paused. I needed to prove something to myself first. Pulling my attention from the ground up, I glared at the very solid form of Imaginary Todd. He looked no less real than Warden White who sat a couple paces to the right. Which did not bode well for my mental state.

What made things even worse was that Imaginary Todd was suddenly very shirtless. All of his scars and traditional ink on display. The thistles on his neck, the snakes and eagles drawn over the hard planes of his chest and down the smooth muscle of his abdomen, and on either side of his hips there appeared to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and on the other, a sheep in wolf’s clothing.

Which meant I was now staring at the very prominent V that disappeared below his waistband.

Nope, nope. Most definitely not going there. Swallowing, I drew my gaze up to Todd’s near black pupils. Heat flushed my cheeks. What was happening was all manner of weird, not to mention inappropriate, and I needed to regain control. So, straightening my shoulders, I signed with as much authority as I could muster, “Out.”

He was gone. Just like that. With a smile on his face.

I’d have to unpack that later. Much later.

Maybe never.

†

Scrubbing until there was nothing left to scrub, I ignored the changes in my body while I sponged down, then wrapped myself in the newer hospital gown. I knew it wasn’t luxurious, or even comfortable for that matter, but I was clean.

With Three still outside with Madame, my window to converse with Warden White was closing.

“I need to ask you something,” I threw the sponge into the bucket with a splash. “While it’s just the two of us.”

“Am I to take it, you’ve finished with your shower?”

“I’m done, but that wasn’t a shower.”

“Then what was it?”

“A sponge bath. At best.”

“Hmmm…” White capped a pen then tucked it behind his ear. “Feel better?”

“I will, once you answer some of my—” Shhhhhhh. White had crossed the room and tipped the bucket’s contents towards the drain beneath the metal table, drowning out my response. When the sloshing stopped, I got straight to the point. “Where does that camera go?”

“What?”

“The one in the corner.” I jutted my chin in the direction of the device. “I’d think it dangerous to connect something like that to the internet where, say the FBI, could hack into the network and access the footage.”

“You could be more subtle, you know.” Appearing altogether unaffected, White grabbed a squeegee for one of the cupboards and slid the remaining water over the drain. “It only connects to the monitor upstairs. It’s not connected to anything external. But you probably already knew that.”

“A woman could hope.”

White didn’t lift his gaze. He kept it pinned on the spot he was squeegeeing. “You’re not going to get far with that collar though.”

“I don’t know,” I gave it another tug, the bright burn of electricity zapping through me, “I feel like I’m making progress.”

“For the love of—” The squeegee clattering to the floor, White took a hold of the bars. “You’ve got to stop doing that. Shocking yourself daily is what most people would call mad.”

“Says the man who put me in the shock collar, and is holding me captive in a basement until I give him what he wants.”

White ran a hand over his face. It was nice to still see I had that effect on people. “Madame’s not above knocking you out, you know.”

“I know, which is why I need your help.”