Chapter 1066
Skye sat on a metal stool in the visitation room, separated from the other side by a thick pane of reinforced glass. She kept her hands folded in her lap, trying to stop them from shaking.
The door on the other side buzzed open.
Liam Kensington walked in. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit that hung loosely on his frame. His hair was shorter, his face gaunt, but his eyes were clear.
He sat down and picked up the phone receiver. Skye did the same.
“You shouldn’t be here, Skye,” Liam said. His voice was tinny through the speaker, but warm.
“I needed to see you,” Skye said. “I needed to know you were okay.”
Liam smiled—a sad, crooked thing. “I’m surviving. The food is terrible and the company is worse, but nobody is trying to blow me up. It’s an improvement.”
He leaned closer to the glass. “How is he? The monster?”
“He is… complicated,” Skye said. “He is trying, Liam. But he is dangerous.”
“He is a weapon, Skye,” Liam said, his expression darkening. “Weapons don’t change their nature just because you put them in a velvet box. I hear things in here—whispers from the other blocks. The Syndicate isn’t gone. There are remnants. They call themselves the Cleaners. And they are looking for weaknesses.”
He pressed his hand against the glass. “You are his weakness. If they can’t kill him, they will come for you to break him.”
“I can handle myself,” Skye said, placing her hand against his on the glass.
“I know you can,” Liam whispered. “But please… be careful. Don’t let his darkness swallow you whole.”
A buzzer sounded. “Time’s up,” a guard barked.
“Goodbye, Liam,” Skye said, tears stinging her eyes.
“Go,” Liam said. “Live your life, Skye. Don’t look back at me.”
He hung up and walked away without turning back.
Skye sat there for a moment, composing herself. She wiped her eyes and walked out of the prison into the humid afternoon air.
A sleek black Maybach was parked at the curb, directly in a no-parking zone. Two massive bodyguards stood by the doors.
The back window rolled down.
Alistair sat there wearing sunglasses, though Skye could feel the heat of his glare from across the pavement. The pink plastic cat carrier sat on the seat beside him.
“Get in,” he said. His voice was a low rumble of thunder.
Skye opened the door and slid in. The air conditioning was freezing.
“You tracked me,” Skye accused.
“You went to a federal prison without a security detail,” Alistair countered. He took off his sunglasses. His eyes were cold and furious. “Do you have any idea how many enemies I have inside those walls? You walked into a lion’s den.”
“I went to see Liam,” Skye said. “He is my friend. He sacrificed everything for us.”
“He is your ex-husband,” Alistair spat the word like a curse. “And you crying over him makes me want to burn that prison to the ground.”
“You are jealous,” Skye realized, studying his clenched jaw.
“Jealousy implies insecurity,” Alistair said, staring straight ahead. “I am not insecure. I am territorial. There is a difference.”
“Driver,” Alistair commanded. “Home. Now.”