Break Out (Supernatural Prison Trilogy Book 3) Read online

  While I worked, Heath chatted with a guard nearby. He must have had a cold or something, because he was talking at an unnecessarily high volume. I was grateful though, because it was the first news of the outside world I’d had since Cooper arrived.

  My ears perked up when they began discussing various issues Kansas City had faced. From the sound of it, things had gotten worse while I’d been locked away.

  “You can’t blame the mayor for not doing her job,” Heath said. I froze. “After all, she’s worried sick about her son.”

  “Oh yeah?” the other guard said. I held my breath. “What happened to him?”

  I exhaled deeply. Either the guard didn’t know who I was, or he hadn’t made the connection yet. I didn’t know if Heath knew.

  “Apparently, they sent him off to some boarding school,” Heath said casually.

  Boarding school?

  The guard snorted. “So? She can just visit him if she’s so worried. Rich people have the weirdest problems.”

  “She could… except that he disappeared.” Heath sounded like he was telling a ghost story, except he wasn’t being quiet about it.

  My heart began pounding in my ears. Was Heath trying to tell me something? I peeked over, but his full concentration was on the other guard. No indication at all he meant for me to hear this conversation.

  “Here’s the crazy part,” he continued. “Lots of other kids at the school have gone missing too.”

  “No kidding?” The guy sounded fully invested in the story now, but not nearly as invested as I was.

  “Yup. And it’s super exclusive too. I hear the parents are pretty pissed off about it.”

  “Well, yeah, wouldn’t you? No way I’d be okay paying all that dough for people to take care of my kids and then they lose them. Sheesh….” A pause. Then, “How do you know all this, anyway?”

  “My brother got a job at the mayor’s office,” Heath said. “Lucky son of a gun. Works right by Frank’s Barbecue downtown. Ever been there?”

  The subject clearly veering in another direction, I angled away from them to hide my grin.

  My parents were aware there was a problem here, and they were angry about it. Or my mom was, at least. She might have even been the contact Fletcher was worried about. And he should be.

  My mother was the most powerful person in Kansas City, and my father was one of the leaders of our country. Both had countless contacts throughout the government and private sector. If anyone could get to the bottom of what was going on here, they could.

  I knew the boarding school wasn’t just some story my parents were feeding people when Heath emphasized it was “super exclusive.” He’d also said other parents were worried. If moms and dads wanted their kids back, surely they’d all work together to shut this place down.

  A hope unlike any I’d experienced blossomed inside my chest. Heath was helping us from the inside, and others were working from the outside. I wanted to jump to my feet and run around the room declaring the good news. Of course, that would be beyond idiotic, so instead I celebrated inside while cleaning puzzles. Not quite the same.

  As I thought about how excited my friends would be when they heard the news, someone appeared by my side. “Need some help?”

  I looked up to see that it was Phoebe’s cellmate, Lucy. Without waiting for a response, she plopped down, picked up a rag, and began cleaning puzzles that I’d already disinfected.

  Whatever. I wouldn’t allow her presence to put a damper on my good mood.

  Phoebe and Lucy hadn’t been on the best terms since Lucy told everyone that Phoebe’s mom was the warden—back when she was. She also thought she’d take a one-way trip up the Lansing social ladder by informing her fellow inmates about Phoebe’s power. Because of it, Phoebe suffered unnecessarily.

  Lucy had shown no remorse, and to my knowledge, she never apologized for what she did. I wasn’t even sure she regretted it. But her plan backfired.

  Phoebe thought the other inmates avoided her because Lucy’s power freaked them out. But I knew better. Nobody liked a gossip who might sell them out for the sake of popularity. I knew this because, in my previous life, I was one of the popular ones and we hated people like that.

  As Lucy and I “cleaned” puzzles in silence, I considered having a word with her about how she treated my girl. And that’s exactly what Phoebe was. She just didn’t know it yet.

  Then I remembered the conversation we’d had at breakfast. Phoebe had made it perfectly clear she didn’t want me to fight her battles for her. Since the damage Lucy inflicted was already done, I could let this one go.

  Plus, Phoebe wasn’t the only one who had suffered. Lucy was often alone, even when there was no shortage of people around. Right now she seemed especially irritated, her movements jerky as she tried shoving puzzle pieces back in places they didn’t belong.

  “Is there a problem?” Even if I wasn’t going to confront her about Phoebe, I didn’t have to be nice to the girl.

  “Actually, yes.” Lucy threw the puzzle pieces back into the box and turned to face me. “It’s hard to sleep when your cellmate sounds like they’re getting murdered in their sleep every night.”

  Alarmed, I asked, “Phoebe’s been having nightmares?” Why hadn’t she said anything?

  “Well, she doesn’t tell me she’s having them. But when she doesn’t sleep, I don’t sleep, and the girl really doesn’t sleep, you know what I mean?” Lucy twisted a platinum blonde strand of hair around her finger.

  She was an incurable gossip, that’s for sure. It was her motivation for telling me I wasn’t sure about.

  “You think maybe I could help her?” Lucy asked.

  My eyebrow rose. “How would you do that?”

  Lucy didn’t hesitate. “I could give her happy thoughts instead of horrible ones.” She paused, and then her voice grew softer. “It’s the least I can do.”

  She looked down and fiddled with the puzzle piece in her hand while I considered her offer. Phoebe and Lucy had been friends once… not close, but not enemies either. Maybe Lucy really felt bad about her actions and wanted to make amends. Maybe this was the only way she knew how.

  This could be a good thing for Phoebe too. It had to be hard occupying the same room with someone and not getting along with them. That kind of tension caused more stress she definitely didn’t need.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” I told Lucy.

  She looked up at me, her face visibly brighter. “Really? Okay, great. What does she like?”

  My forehead creased. “What do you mean?”

  “Like, what are her favorite things? If I’m going to give her happy thoughts, I have to know what makes her happy.”

  I opened my mouth to reply but realized I didn’t know what to tell her.

  Finding out Phoebe’s dad was alive had made her smile earlier. Also, she’d wolfed down that banana at breakfast, but no doubt that was because she was starving. Besides those, I couldn’t think of a single thing.

  “Wow, you don’t know her very well, do you?” Lucy asked, her eyebrows raised.

  Ignoring her, I racked my brain. I thought I knew a lot about Phoebe. I knew she’d had cancer as a kid. I also knew she was great with kids. She was smart and brave and kind. She’d survived a year on her own with no parents, no support network, and no income other than what she earned.

  But none of those—with the except of the kids, maybe—were things that made her happy. In fact, Phoebe’s life had been rough. Her time in prison, even rougher.

  She’d been so quiet and distant in school, and although I’d crushed on her hard-core, I never had the guts to talk to her. Sure, we’d gotten to know each other since being locked up, but we didn’t exactly talk about our likes and dislikes, hopes and dreams. Somehow all that seemed so… petty. Who talked about dreams for their future when reality suggested we might not have one?

  Still, not knowing those things bothered me. Not knowing everything about Phoebe bothered me.

 
“Yeah, you should probably ask her,” I finally admitted.

  Lucy shook her head. “She won’t tell me. I’ve tried to talk to her, and she ignores me.”

  Understandable if she did, but I couldn't imagine Phoebe flat-out ignoring someone that she shared a space with.

  I shrugged. “I’ll let her know you’re willing to help. If she doesn’t want it, you can’t force it.” That was another thing I knew about Phoebe. She could be exceptionally stubborn. Also not helpful in this case.

  Lucy chewed on her lip. She watched while I picked up another puzzle to clean. “What about things she doesn’t like?” she asked. “Is there anything I should avoid?”

  I frowned when I realized I knew way more about what Phoebe didn’t like than what she did. There was no shortage of things to loathe in prison, particularly one where its occupants were terrorized.

  “That should be obvious,” I said pointedly.

  “Oh. Right.” Lucy huffed a sigh. “What else? I mean, is she scared of spiders? Everyone’s scared of spiders, aren’t they?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I vaguely recalled Phoebe saying something about snakes, but I could have been projecting my own fear. “I’m not sure how many pleasant dreams contain snakes, but I’d steer clear of those,” I advised. “And yeah, spiders are never a good idea.”

  Lucy shivered. “True, true.”

  Fletcher’s voice sounded over the intercom. “Boys and girls, it’s time to gather for the next match. Drop what you’re doing and report to the main hall without delay.”

  All thoughts of snakes and spiders—and what I did and didn’t know about Phoebe—were gone in an instant. The only thing that mattered now was what would happen next.

  7

  Phoebe

  I walked toward the main hall with my heart lodged in my throat. Fletcher wouldn’t make me fight two days in a row, would he?

  Evil was so unpredictable. Good… now that was something you could count on. And Xander, just being himself, had turned today into a very good day.

  I’d gone over our breakfast conversation a hundred times in the past few hours, and I still couldn’t believe what had happened. Xander told me he liked me, which yes, I supposed I knew already—actions speak louder than words, after all—but I didn’t really know.

  And the craziest part of it was that I’d been so grumpy, and even rude to him. Yet he still came at me with kindness I didn’t deserve. Xander was almost too good to be believed.

  The only reason I believed it was that I’d known him practically my whole life. What you saw was what you got with him… and not just on the exterior. He’d been an A-lister his entire life, but not once had I ever witnessed him acting like he was better than anyone else. That was rare, especially considering he was the son of not one but two politicians.

  I wasn’t sure what he saw in me, but it couldn’t be money or looks because both were sorely lacking these days. So, assuming he just liked me for me, then I was the luckiest girl in the world.

  Arriving at the main hall was the equivalent of a torrential downpour on a bride’s wedding day. Luck was a fickle friend, and I was about to find out if mine had just run out.

  As soon as I entered the cavernous space, I located Rocky, Birdie, and Cathy and moved to stand with them. Not only did they make a space for me, but the three formed a semi-circle of sorts around me. It was a silent show of support that meant more than words could say. We hadn’t had a chance to talk since before yesterday’s match, but—like with Xander—their actions spoke volumes.

  Birdie took my hand in hers, and I squeezed to reassure her I was okay. Right this minute, I truly was.

  Tex, Cal, and Cooper joined us, and now the only one missing from our group was Xander. I looked toward the door just as he walked through it.

  With Lucy.

  They were talking, heads bent together, and something ugly coiled in my stomach. I’d never felt it before, but I’d read about it a ton. It turned out that jealousy felt just as awful as I imagined it would.

  What could Xander possibly have to say to her? The girl who had single-handedly made my life miserable didn’t deserve the time of day, much less a conversation.

  The doors shut right after they entered, and I waited for Xander’s eyes to find me. With all our friends together, it would be easier than usual in this room packed with people.

  “Phoenix.” I jumped at the voice behind me and spun around. It was Fang. He’d somehow wedged himself into our group, and he looked as sorry as he did in the seconds before he killed me yesterday. “I want to apologize again,” he said. “Are you feeling okay today?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, nodding. “Just… don’t make it a habit, okay?”

  “Deal.” Fang grinned and lightly punched my shoulder. He was a big guy—even taller and more muscular than Wolf. How I’d faced off against him without wetting my pants, I’d never know.

  Wolf.

  I hadn’t seen him yet today, but I knew he was in here somewhere. Unlike Xander, I wasn’t seeking him out. But for some crazy reason, I could still sense his eyes on me.

  “Boys and girls, quiet down!” Mr. Fletcher’s voice caused a chill to run through my body. Fang gave me a reassuring smile right before I turned back around.

  I hadn’t told Xander how Mr. Fletcher had tortured me, nor did I tell him about my encounter with Wolf. There was no point. It would only make him angrier, and therefore more likely to do something stupid. Like the kind of stupid that could get him killed.

  Over and over, I’d thought about the message Cathy received. Hang tight, if I understood it correctly, meant don’t do anything stupid. That included getting killed.

  “Are we ready for another thrilling match?” Mr. Fletcher asked loudly. The acoustics in this room were designed in such a way that his voice seemed to coming from everywhere. I hated it, and I hated this room.

  The room was silent, but apparently that wasn’t what Mr. Fletcher had in mind. A snap of his finger, and the guards, who were evenly dispersed along the perimeter of the room, each took two steps forward. Toward us.

  “I said, are you ready?” Mr. Fletcher called out again, his eyes flashing.

  Little by little, inmates began cheering. A chorus of yeses filled the room, causing my stomach to twist in revulsion. He really wanted gladiator-style matches, and it looked like he was going to get them.

  Thinking back to when we studied ancient Rome in school, those crowds cheered for the fights and against them, eagerly anticipating violent fights and grisly deaths. Would inmates start rooting against each other?

  “Excellent!” Mr. Fletcher clapped his hands together. “Today, it will not be a fight to the death. I repeat, do not kill each other.” Surprisingly, this news didn’t make me feel any better. Two people in this room were still going to suffer. “Same rules as whatever the previous warden had you do in those little rooms.”

  I flinched at his reference to my mother. She might not have been a good person, but at least she didn’t make a spectator sport out of our pain.

  “Dane, step forward, please.”

  Cheers erupted as Dane emerged from the crowd. Instead of looking scared like I expected him to, his face was lit up and hands raised in the air. Inmates across the room whooped and hollered.

  Cathy choked back a laugh. “Phoebe, you should see your face.”

  I didn’t have to see my face to know I looked disgusted. How could I have ever been attracted to him? Sure, he looked good, but pandering to evil authority figures was not a good look. Killing me in a match, I’d gotten over. Him holding Xander against his will, I never would.

  And to think I believed he actually cared about me. Even if he did, he would always put himself first, and my father taught me that no girl should ever be okay with that.

  Mr. Fletcher, the man opposite of my father in every way, appeared pleased with the crowd’s enthusiastic response. “And the next contestant is… Zapper!”

  My face fell. “O
h no…”

  “He’s going to get the crap beat out of him,” Rocky huffed beside me.

  She was right. I’d stepped in once before when Zapper was getting “the crap beat out of him,” but there was nothing I could do to stop it this time. Though I felt better after a decent breakfast—also thanks to Xander—I still wasn’t in good shape from yesterday. I knew it down deep in my bones that another fight, and especially another death, was more than my body could take.

  I watched as the skinny kid slowly stepped forward into the cleared space. Zapper could electrocute, but his ability was no match for Dane’s density-bending, whatever-it-was he could do. Unless Zapper’s skills had improved or he had some new tricks up his sleeve, he was toast.

  Averting my gaze from the fear I could see shining in the kid’s eyes, my gaze collided with Xander’s. Lucy was nowhere in sight. My insides warmed when I realized he’d been steadily moving in our direction at a pace the guards wouldn’t notice. If they saw, I doubted they’d care. All focus was on the impending battle.

  Except for mine and Xander’s. Our eyes remained locked, and I could feel the intensity of his stare even as he weaved his way through inmates. It almost felt like we were the only ones in the room—almost.

  “Are you both ready?” Mr. Fletcher once again commanded my attention.

  Dane flashed his most charming smile—one I was familiar with because I’d been on the receiving end of it on several occasions. Ugh.

  Zapper shuffled his feet, clenching and unclenching his fists. His face was paler than usual, his freckles more pronounced. My heart went out to him, and my conscience pulled at my heart.

  “My money’s on Dane,” Fang said from behind us.

  “If you had money,” Rocky shot back.

  Cathy cocked her head. “I don’t know. Zapper might surprise us.”

  I hoped so. Not that I wanted to see Dane hurt, but the way he’d embraced these monstrous matches, he deserved a reminder it wasn’t all fun and games.

  “Begin!” Mr. Fletcher cried out and backed away. Heaven forbid he accidentally got a taste of what he’s dishing out. If only…