Break Me If You Dare [Book 2]

CLEO’S POV;

​Blood smells remarkably like rust, but tastes much worse when it’s your own.

​I wiped the red smear from my lower lip, keeping my back flat against the cold concrete wall of the intake cell.

​Across the room, three cellmates were deciding who got to try and kill me first.

​"She isn't even moving," the biggest one spat, his boots echoing off the wet floor as he stepped into my space. "Hey! Dead girl. You deaf?"

​I didn't answer. Pain was just sensory data—electrical pulses travelling up the spinal cord to the brain. It had no emotional value to me.

​He threw a fast right hook.

​THUD.

​My head snapped sideways against the hard concrete. The skin over my cheekbone split, warm blood leaking down my jaw. My arms stayed limp at my sides, iron cuffs binding my wrists together, a six-inch chain locking my ankles.

​"See?" the second one laughed, kicking me hard in the ribs.

​I slumped sideways onto the cold floor. One broken rib. Maybe two. Respiration efficiency dropped by twelve percent. Still, I felt nothing.

If they wanted to break the body, they could have it. It was just flesh.

​Then, the big one bent down.

​His filthy fingers reached into my open jacket pocket and pulled out a small, scratched plastic square.

​My Rubik's cube.

​The color grid was almost completely faded from years of use, but it was mine. The only thing that kept the noise in my head aligned.

​"What's this trash?" he muttered, turning it over in his hand. "A toy?"

​Something in my chest violently short-circuited.

​I shot up from the floor like a released spring.

​Even with my ankles chained, I used my whole body weight to ram my shoulder into his chest, slamming him hard against the wall.

Before he could recover, I raised my bound hands and drove the iron chain between my cuffs straight into his throat.

​CRACK.

​His windpipe crushed and he fell to his knees, clutching his neck as he gasped for air.

​The second cellmate lunged, swinging a sharpened metal shank at my chest. I let the blade slice into my shoulder on purpose—using the hit to trap him in place.

Before he could pull the shank back out, I grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face straight into the steel bedframe.

​Once. Twice.

​His body went completely limp, dropping to the floor like a sack of wet flour.

​The third one didn't even bother to fight. He turned and threw his whole body against the heavy intake door, screaming at the top of his lungs.

​"Get me out! She's a fucking demon! Get me out!”

​I stepped behind him, wrapped the iron chain between my boots around his neck, and yanked back. Ten seconds of struggling. Then silence.

​I sat down flat on the cold floor, my lungs burning as I heaved for air.

​I picked up the tiny plastic cube from the big man's unmoving fingers. I twisted the top row—blue, yellow, red. The mechanical click-click of the plastic tiles was the only sound left in the room.

​I shoved the jagged edge of the steel shank into the keyhole of my cuffs. With one sharp twist, the lock tumblers shattered.

​CLICK.

​The iron fell away from my wrists.

​High above, red emergency lights began to strobe, washing the cell in harsh blood-light.

​ALARM. INTAKE CELL 09 COMPROMISED. SUBJECT IS DANGEROUS.

​The heavy hydraulic door hissed open. Heavy steam flooded the threshold as six guards in thick tactical bio-armor rushed in, their pulse rifles humming with charged voltage.

​"Don't move, freak!" the lead guard yelled through his helmet speaker.

​I didn't fight them. I stayed seated on the floor, my hands clutching the Rubik's cube tight against my chest.

​A guard stepped forward, kicking my hands away. The plastic cube flew out of my grip, skidding across the dirty concrete floor and sliding straight down into the drainage grate in the corner.

​Gone.

​My hands stayed empty in the air.

​Something cold and heavy twisted deep in my chest. Hollow. Like a piece of my brain had been ripped out and thrown down the drain with it.

​"Get her up!" the guard barked, his rifle trembling slightly in his grip I could smell the sharp, sour tang of his sweat. He was terrified. "Secondary restraints! Move!"

​They dragged me down three dark sub-levels, through corridors humming with high-voltage machinery and glowing blue warning glyphs.

​Sitting on the edge of a across the room was a boy, sitting with his legs swinging back and forth like he was waiting for a bus. He had sharp features, dark messy hair, and eyes that locked onto me the second I was shoved inside.

​"Subject 01," the administrator's cold voice echoed from the ceiling grid. "Due to your extreme threat assessment, you are assigned a mandatory stabilization partner. Subject 02—Kenji."

​Kenji dramatically threw his head back, letting out a loud, whining groan.

​"Are you serious right now?" Kenji complained, his voice overflowing with ridiculous energy.

"A stabilization partner? I gave the warden a gorgeous bouquet of plastic flowers yesterday! Is this how my top-tier customer service is rewarded?"

​He hopped off the table, stepping toward me with zero hesitation without bothering to look at the six armed guards pointing guns at us. He just stared at my blood-soaked shirt, my messy hair, and my raw, bleeding lip.

​A wide, hyperactive grin spread across his face.

​"Whoa," Kenji breathed out, tilting his head. "Look at you! Did you fall out of a violent rainbow?"

​I stared at him. My brow pulled tight.

​No fear smell. No posture defense. He was... loud. Annoying.

.

​"To prevent you both from killing each other," the overhead voice continued, "magnetic tethering will be applied immediately."

​Guards stepped in, slamming heavy silver collars around our throats and matching thick iron bands around our ankles.

​CLACK.

​A sharp blue light chimed on the front of both collars.

​LINK ESTABLISHED.

​The guards violently shoved us together.

​My chest slammed straight into Kenji's.

​"Warning," the collar's automated voice rasped.

"Maximum distance: three feet. Physical harm to partner results in immediate sixty-watt neural shock."

​Kenji looked down at me, his face inches from mine, his dark eyes sparkling with dark amusement.

​"Well, hello, roommate," Kenji purred, completely unbothered by the iron crushing his neck. "Looks like we're attached at the hip."

​I didn't move. I looked at his mouth. Then his throat.

​"Too... close," I rasped, my voice small, broken, and quiet.

​Kenji leaned an inch closer, his grin widening. "Get used to it, rainbow girl. We're going to be best friends.”