Page 100 of Red Captive

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Roscoe says, but not before I catch the worried look in his eyes.

32

Steel

Some of the walls in the palace are hollow. They’ve been specially constructed this way to facilitate an escape if the building is ever raided. First and foremost, it is imperative that the royal family be saved. That, at the very least, one of the royals makes it out unscathed.

I am one of the few who knows about the walls. Considering I was almost convicted of treason four years ago, that I was very nearly put to death for my crimes, I am shocked to find that nothing in the palace layout has changed.

What the fuck!

Ice clearly doesn’t give a damn or take his role seriously. I can’t say I’m surprised. Right now, it’s a good thing they never made changes because I found it easy to get into the palace, and I’ll be in the royal apartment in just a jiffy.

I have to walk sideways as I carefully make my way through the wall that leads there. One thing is a little different; there are guards posted everywhere and patrols circling the grounds nonstop. Something is up. Surely all of this is not just for me? Itcan’t be. It feels like something more is going on. I can’t worry about that now.

It’s late. There is no way in hell that Arctic is anywhere but in bed. I need to be quiet about this, or he’ll sound the alarm, and about fifty guards will descend on his apartment in seconds. They’ll think the worst. And this time, I will be beheaded for treason. No one will save me. I get a pang somewhere in the vicinity of my heart when I think of being put to death or jailed. Neither of those two things can happen. Jen needs me.

I get all soft and sappy inside when I think of her. I warm. I light up. I turn into a fuzzy-as-fuck mess. It can’t be helped. That female needs someone to finally have her back. I’m it.

It’s going to fucking kill me to watch her leave, but I can do it. I can do all of it…for her.

I take a few deep breaths and then I click open the panel on the wall. The one that leads to the royal living room.

Just as expected, all is quiet. It’s dark. I glide through the space into the formal lounge, then to the formal dining room, and into the hall. I make my way past the library, which doubles as a study, and past the bedroom that would have been a nursery. I pause for a few seconds, my mind on Anya. On the life she never got to live. On the baby she never got to carry.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the darkness. Something eases in me. It’s small, but it’s a start. After taking a deep breath, I walk down the hallway to the master bedroom. The room where she died. Arctic wouldn’t leave this place. Wouldn’t hear of it. He still sleeps in the same room he watched her die in. It doesn’t get too much more fucked up than that.

The lights on the panel by the door are a bright red, telling me that the lock is engaged. Arctic is inside this room, and six digits stand between him and me. Let’s see if I still know him.

I quietly rub my hands together. I’ve had plenty of time to think about what the numbers could be. I’m pretty sure I know. I’m not sure of the combination, though.

He will have chosen days that are important to him. Arctic is extremely analytical and logical.

I carefully key in the code in chronological order of the events in which they took place. Anya’s birthday, the day they met, and – I swallow thickly – the day she died. A soft beep signals, but the panel stays red.Wrong!I have two tries left. I only hope he doesn’t sound the alarm before I have a chance to use them.

It has to be those numbers. I try a different order and get another beep.

Fuck!

Maybe I don’t know him at all anymore.

I shake my head. Do I still have the order wrong? Fuck! Then it hits me: Arctic would not want to remember Anya that way. He wouldn’t want to be reminded of her death every time he keys in the code. So, he hasn’t used the anniversary of her death.

“That idiot!” I mutter to myself as I realize what the code is. I have one last shot, so I hope I get it right. He will have to be a complete ass to keep it exactly the same. He will have made a change, but nothing crazy. It’ll still be logical. I think I know. I know him. I do! Arctic might hate me, but he’s my best friend and always will be.

I say a silent prayer and key in the six digits. There is a beep, but this time, the keypad turns green. The door clicks as the locks open.

I turn the handle and walk in. Arctic jumps to his feet, the sheet pooling on the floor. He’s naked, his eyes wide.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” I tell him in a low voice.

“Steel! What the fuck are you doing here? Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”

“You still use the same code? You haven’t changed it? Do you have a fucking death wish?” I take a step toward him.

“It’s not the same,” he mutters. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

I roll my eyes, ignoring the question. “You swapped the numbers of each date around. Whoop-di-fucking-do! It’s practically the same. Thirteen became thirty-one. Everything else is exactly the same.”