Page 44 of Hell’s Weapon

“Well, when I realised you weren’t in the cell block with me, I came straight here. I expected to find you already released or something, but after picking the lock, I only found Milo.” He looks down at the sleeping man next to him and a softness enters his eyes. “I was going to come look for you some more, but he was a right mess, it took me ages to figure out that he was panicking about you. Poor guy seems really attached to you, did you know that?” Wyatt’s brows pull together like he’s trying to see through thick fog.

“He is my roommate,” I reply, shrugging off the fact that I have found Milo’s company to be good, more than good. In just a few days, I’ve already grown to like his presence.

Wanting off this topic so I don’t have to analyse my feelings I go to circle back to Wyatt’s insane lock picking skills but he derails my questioning before I can open my mouth.

“He spoke, you know?”

“What? When?” I move into the room, taking a seat on my bed opposite them. Milo hasn’t so much as squeaked around me. I was beginning to think his mutism was a physical disability rather than something within his mind.

“After I calmed him down enough so that he could write down what was making him so upset, he repeated the word sorry several times as I read his words.”

The surge of emotion at the fact that Milo felt comfortable enough to speak in front of Wyatt and not me has me momentarily biting my tongue. He’s seemed to be opening up to me more each day, and we spent a lot of the time communicating in various ways.

“Why was he upset?” I ask.

“I’m sure he won’t mind you reading it, his notepad is on the top.” Wyatt nods his head towards the little table between our beds.

I stretch over and pick it up, reading the note that looks stained with a couple of tears.

It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.

They’re going to punish her for it. I didn’t mean it. Really, I didn’t. I was telling the truth for once. I didn’t tell the guards anything, only that she was with you. Which was the truth. I should’ve lied, but we hadn’t discussed it. I thought I was doing the right thing. Please help her.

His words are scrawled across the page, written in haste and with an unsteady hand. But their meaning is clear. Milo blames himself for Garrick taking me away. He only did what I set him up to do, the cover story I put in place worked perfectly. It was Garrick who saw through it.

Setting the notepad down, my gaze returns to my roommate. He looks peaceful now, at least. Not that I should care, but the pang in my chest is telling me otherwise. I don’t like to think of him upset. And all alone. Especially now that I know his truth.

I know all the reasons each inmate was selected for this round of the games, and several facts about their backgrounds, their traumas. Milo’s is particularly harrowing, even more so than what he’s already told me. I’m surprised he can function as well as he does after what that prison put him through. I’m also glad he managed to burn them all. Until I’d got to that bit, I was mentally planning a trip back to the human realm once this was over.

Wyatt’s file is a string of accomplishments that reads like a compendium of every benchmark you could possibly obtain as an assassin. He’s got an impressive CV, annoyingly. It means each of those brags he makes is actually true. He’s not humble about them but neither am I.

Sort of.

I may have my anonymity but I love the attention the Death Bringer gets, love the accolades I collect as her. I guess Wyatt and I are alike in that we crave attention for our kills.

For fuck’s sake, I really am too tired, all these feelings keep stirring in my blood stream and it’s sickening.

Wyatt’s jaw goes slack as I stand and strip off my top. His eyes practically bug out when I take off my leggings too, that is until I fold back the covers on my bed and get between the sheets, wriggling to get comfy and closing my eyes.

“Damn, I thought you were joining us over here.”

“Why would I do that? These beds are hardly big enough as it is, let alone for three.”

“I could think of some ideas.” Wyatt chuckles.

I bet he can… and now those ideas are flitting behind my closed eye lids as well. “You can go back to your own room now, you know? I’m here to keep an eye on Milo, and he’ll be fine now I’m back.”

“Ooph, kicking me out?”

“It makes no difference to me. Just thought you might want your own bed.”

“I’m quite enjoying this one, thanks. I’m already snuggly and warm.”

“Suit yourself,” I huff and reach to turn out the light. If Wyatt likes cuddling with Milo so much, then I don’t care that he stays. I am done with today and am glad that tomorrow is our day off so I won’t have to get up.

Listening as Wyatt settles back down, the sheets ruffling, it’s only because of my demonic hearing that I understand as he softly says, “Goodnight, Mo Stór.”

Wyatt is thankfully gone when I wake and Milo is still asleep. It can’t be that late as the light in the room is bright but the sun isn’t shining directly inside the window yet. I stretch out my limbs under the covers before turning onto my stomach, intending to try and sleep some more when there is a gentle knock at the door.