“He means, outside of here,” Eraser clarified. “Be careful talking about biker business. They’re real secretive and shit.”
I already knew that from working for Ulfric and tagging along on “jobs” with Dex. “How do you know so much about it?”
“My uncle used to run with a few clubs back in the day.”
“That one fighter I told you about is a Lost King,” Griff said. “He’s like a fucking gladiator in the ring.”
“I haven’t met anyone else besides her uncle,” I said, afraid to even mention Dex’s name now.
“All right, so what’s your vehicle, then, Roman?” Eraser asked.
“A magic fucking carpet to get me the hell out of here,” I grumbled.
“He’s afraid,” Griff said with knowing smugness.
“I ain’t afraid of shit.”
“You gotta clear your resistance, Roman,” Eraser said with an eager note that didn’t annoy me as much as usual. “Whatever fear you have around achieving the life you want, remove it.”
That struck a chord. Resistance came naturally to me. Everything in my life had always been out of my control. Any effort to change things seemed embarrassingly futile.
“All right,” I sighed. “Go on.”
“Work on getting a clear picture,” Eraser said. “Feel what it would be like to have what you want.”
The tiny seed of hope planted by Ms. Simpson’s visit took root. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to picture Mrs. Shields’ house. The warm, inviting kitchen. Her kind smile while she offered us banana bread. Juliet was there too, of course. Under the kitchen table, I slid my hand over Juliet’s and we linked fingers.
My mind moved to the bedroom upstairs where Juliet and I had lost our virginity to each other.
Whoops.
Nope, shouldn’t go there. Thinking about sex when I was supposed to be “manifesting” would probably make my dick fall off or something.
Flower baskets. The baskets we bought and hung for Mrs. Shields. Pretty flowers dangling over the sides, swinging in the gentle spring breeze. Car. Mrs. Shields’ car. Adding wiper fluid. Changing the oil for her. The lawn. Mrs. Shields wouldn’t have to hire people to do yardwork. I would earn my keep by mowing the lawn and weeding her flowerbeds while I lived there. I could go grocery shopping with her so she’d never have to worry about the clerks packing her bags too heavy again.
Outside our door, metal scraped against metal. The lock clicked. Light from the hallway grew brighter.
“Griff?” Ollie whispered. “You awake?”
None of us moved or breathed.
“Egghead’s still running his mouth. You wanna fight him tonight?” Ollie asked.
Still no answer from any of us.
“What about you, Hawkins?” Footsteps approached my bed. I forced myself to remain blank-faced and my breathing slow and even. “Heard you been working out every day with these two clowns. Gettin’ shredded for a reason, aren’t you?”
The footsteps stopped. Hot breath warmed the side of my face and I tried not to recoil.
“Hmm,” Ollie grunted. “Or you just wanna look pretty for your boyfriends? That it? The three of you up to some freaky shit in here when no one’s lookin’?”
Slam. My whole bed rattled.
“The fuck?” I mumbled.
Ollie kicked the metal frame again.
“All right,” Griff shouted. “I’ll do it. Leave him alone.”
“Griff, don’t.” I sat up and shook off the pretense of sleep.
Griff was so close to getting out, I didn’t want to see this go bad and have him thrown in solitary or something.
“I’ll go.” Eraser sat up and pounded his fist against his palm.
“All three of you. Come on. We need an audience or it’s no fun.” Ollie jerked his head toward the door.
I jumped down off my bunk.
Griff moved in front of me, holding his arms out to the sides. “Roman’s just there to watch.”
I don’t know why he bothered. Trying to bargain with Ollie was like signing a contract with a minion of the devil. It could be revoked at any time.
“Yeah, your boyfriend’s safe tonight,” Ollie said.
Not feeling reassured, I grabbed a hoodie and slipped it over my head. It didn’t have drawstrings—just in case one of us tried to hang ourselves to escape this miserable place—so the hood flapped around my face, but at least it was warm.
Eraser shook his head but motioned for me to follow them.
Ollie stopped at another room and dragged two more kids out of bed. We all silently nodded to each other.
The five of us followed Ollie to the basement.
On the stairs, I caught Eraser’s eye and I swear the two of us shared the same thought. Five against one. We could push Ollie down the stairs and make a run for it. Most likely the cameras were shut off to keep the other guards from finding out about the underground fights.
Where the fuck would we go, though?
This place was way the fuck out in the middle of nowhere. Five fugitives would stick out among the fields of grass and cows. It was getting colder. PJs and a hoodie wouldn’t offer much protection.