What I hated most about solitary was being left alone with my thoughts. When I was in with the other women, something was constantly happening, and while I worried about my safety out there, it was better than this. My thoughts always went to the same place in here. When I stared at these white walls lit by windows no wider than my hand, all I saw was his damned face. I would be angry at him if I wasn't in so much fucking pain.

This was the sixth time Adrian had thrown me into these damned cells, and each time he kept my painkillers out of reach. I stretched my back as much as I could, did the exercises I was supposed to do to help rebuild strength; but it was never enough. It had been eleven years since the accident. Using drugs to mask the pain of my broken back instead of doing the work had led to this. To the constant pain I knew would never go away.

And he knew this would happen when he threw me in here.

It had been four-hundred and thirty-seven days since he had shackled my wrists and betrayed me. Had thrown me in here without so much as an apology. Maybe I could be angry and in pain. Multitasking was one of my many talents, after all.

Even the exercises couldn't ease the pain, not now. Not when my body was too tense. I had to relax somehow, but what even calmed me down these days? Not much, but if I was going to be in here for a week, I guess I had all the time in the world to figure it out.

Maybe I could focus on the people I'll destroy after I served my sentence. I only had eight years left, which was plenty of time to plot my revenge. I guess a good starting point would be to figure out which order I would do the list in. Maybe bottom up; that way Queen would have time to feel afraid, to realise what was happening and that she couldn't stop me.

Jingling keys cut through my tranquil thoughts and the echo of it came closer to my cell door. Maybe it was time for dinner, which would likely be cold and questionable. I stood up and walked to the metal door so I could be ready to receive the tray through the slot, but the door fully opened.

Kaiden and the warden stood in the opening as I backed into the cell. This wasn't good. It wasn't visiting hours, and when you were in solitary, you didn't leave the room until your punishment was over. Unless you have a visitor that you applied to have before you came into solitary. They needed to keep the illusion that this place didn't abuse the inmates; denying an already approved visitation would raise a red flag.

I only had one person who would visit me anyway. But for their safety, it was best they kept far away from me; at least until I was out of here and we destroyed those who've wronged us.

"Hands on the wall, Hyde," Kaiden said. I shook my head.

"I don't want to though." It was true, I didn't. If the warden came down for this, and I'd only been here for a few hours, then he was here for me. "I'd rather be shot."

"We can arrange that..." The warden said. I smirked.

"Come on Adrian, we both know you find me far too entertaining to let me go so easily." I put my hands on the wall as I realised it was futile to fight this.

Kaiden came over and put the cuffs on me, taking one hand at a time and pulling them behind my back. He'd always been aware of my back pain, been careful with me. Because of that, he was the only person I half-trusted in this damned place. Kaiden led me towards the warden, who should have been smiling at me in cuffs. It sparked joy in his twisted mind.

"Is he under your skin already?" I asked. It would explain the sour look on his face.

"Take her to the interrogation room." Well, that answered my question. One thing he was good at was toying with people, getting them to do what he needed them to. What did he need from Adrian, though? Why was making him paranoid the best play here? Kaiden walked in front of me as the warden disappeared back to his office.

"What the fuck does he want with me?" I asked, idiotically thinking that Kaiden would know. There's no way he would. He was just a guard. But that was a position of higher standing than mine.

"Who?"

"My visitor. The warden is an entirely separate conversation, but I know he's just a narcissistic misogynist who enjoys wielding power. The man who is here to see me hasn't been here in over four-hundred days. He wants something from me."

"How do you know who's here to see you? None of us have told you."

"No need. I don't have anyone, and he's the only one working the case."

"Your case or the one for Queen?" I tilted my head to the side, even though his eyes weren't on me.

"Same thing, isn't it? Difference is that I'm no longer an obstacle. I'm in here." We came up to the interrogation room. Through the glass window, I saw it was empty. Great. He wanted to make the 'dramatic entrance after they chain me to the table' play. Real mature. Kaiden walked me in and attached me to the table.

"I'm just on the other side of the door. If you want to leave, just yell for me and I'll get you out. Okay?" He said. I looked him up and down. It was strange for someone to care about my well-being. I didn't trust it, but nodded anyway before he walked out of the room.

In the silence, I shuffled in my chair, trying to get comfortable on the cold metal. How long did I have to wait for him to come in here? I guess that depended on how much of a prick he felt like being. I grimaced as pain shot up my back, but I hid the look of pain when I heard the door buzz open.

His footsteps were slow and calm. With my eyes closed, all I could do was breathe in his cologne as he breezed past me to sit on the opposite side of the table. It was a woody scent, with maybe a hint of cinnamon spice. Fuck, he always smelled delicious.

"What the fuck do you want?" I asked as the chair across from me scraped on the ground. By keeping my eyes closed, I could pretend that he didn't exist, that this wasn't happening. I heard a beep as he obviously pressed play on a recording machine.

"This is Agent Esmond Triggs, questioning Sierra 'Max' Hyde. Interview opened at..." there was a pause. He was probably checking that stupid watch with the brown leather strap I rarely saw him take off. "Five thirty-three PM." I opened my eyes, looking at the table and working my way up to him. Indeed, he wore that leather watch, and a suit of notable expense. When I reached his face, I stared into the blue-green eyes that twisted something in my stomach. Shit, I wasn't still pining over this asshole, was I?

"Four-hundred and thirteen days," I said. Hearing the words echo off of the walls fixed that tension in my stomach. Instead of the heartache of seeing him again, I felt a fire. "It's been four-hundred and thirteen days since you came to interrogate me like I hadn't already told you everything." I swore he flinched.

"Hyde-"

"Don't start with that 'Hyde' shit." I leaned forward onto the table, not looking away from his eyes. I needed him to be as uncomfortable as I was. The more I pushed him, the more likely he would crack. Yes, he was here to interrogate me, but he knew that it's never that straightforward with me.

"I'll ask again, what the fuck do you want?" He didn't want to respond. "You owe me an answer." I pushed after a few seconds of silence.

"I don't owe you anything, Hyde." Well, if I wasn't pissed before.

"You don't owe me anything? How about the days I've lost because of you? The days you took from me?"

"You're a criminal, Hyde, and this is where criminals go. There's no exceptions to that." I smiled at his words, but there was nothing friendly about the expression.

"Wow. And here I thought the immunity you promised me for being an informant, as an apology for using me and manipulating me and sleeping with me to gain my trust, would grant me that exception." He flinched once again. Good.

"No. I was undercover and doing my job where I can lie to my targets if it gets me more information." Wow. I looked at my hands as I rethought our entire situation, but I had already done that countless times since coming into this damned prison. I was tired of overthinking. Tired of the pain and the hurt I felt over the betrayal that pushed me into this damned place. Maybe everything before that had been one-sided. Like he said, it was his job to manipulate people, to get information from them and leave them high and dry.

"I need your help." His voice was far too quiet for who I knew he was.

"You didn't want it a year ago." Another damned flinch.

"I ended the op too soon. Queen has something going down, and I need your help to stop it." I furrowed my brows. What he said before shattered the last piece of me that was holding on to whatever we had. There wasn't a way I could look at him.

"What is she doing?"

"That's classified information." That was the last damned straw.

"Then any information I have is classified." I finally looked back up at him. The spite I had ready to throw at him disappeared when I realised he had been trying to communicate through body language. I narrowed my eyes as I watched his irises flicking between me and something behind me. The camera in the room's corner. Was this another facade? Was he acting? Why would the cameras be important?

The warden? I mouthed, and he tapped the table twice with his pen. That tap... that was a signal between us for a very different situation, but it meant the same thing; confirmation.

"I need to know about her storage facilities."

"Classified." I said with a smirk. He licked his bottom lip, and it took everything in me to stop the thoughts coming forward about how I wanted to be the one-

"Hyde."

"I'm sorry, but no. You're not getting shit from me because I'm not getting shit from you. With that unfair trade, I'm going to have to pass."

"I need to get her before New Year's Eve." Nine and a bit days? That's cutting it close.

"MI6 won't help you?" I watched him grimace. He could be acting, making this situation rough for me because he was wary of Adrian, but that didn't mean I had to go easy on him.

"No." He answered, to which I scoffed.

"Then it can't be that important, can it?"

"No, that's not..." He took a deep breath to calm himself. Whatever was going on had him worked up, and me pushing him wasn't helping. Good. "I need you to help me. You know how Queen and the Court operate. Having you on the field with me would be of significant benefit." Oh, we could work with this.

"Being imprisoned wasn't part of my ten-year plan. So I might help you if I can get out of here." He wouldn't have come here, dangled that carrot in front of me if he couldn't do that. If he couldn't clear my name and get me back into the world.

"So you'll help me if I can get you your freedom?" He asked. I tilted my head to the side.

"A squeaky clean record might be nice, too. You have no idea how hard it is to get a job when you have felonies to your name." I smirked as his eyes flicked back to the camera.

"I have a phone call to make." He said as he stood up.

"I know you, Es. You wouldn't have come here if that wasn't already approved. There's no need to do this dance with me." I pulled out his nickname that I had called him for the better part of two years. Surely it would have to do something to him. I was the only one who ever called him that.

Or maybe I was being desperate.

"Interview concluded at..." He checked his fucking watch. "Five-forty PM." He shut off the recording device and walked to my side of the table, leaned down next to me and whispered close enough to my ear to send shivers down my spine.

"Just give me a minute, darling. I have something I need to sort out before I steal you away."