Chapter 19 · The Hold Doesn't Open

Dean's hand closed around my collar before the screen even finished loading.

"Who locked this door." His voice came out low, close, his knuckles pressed flat against my throat where the collar bunched. "Ellis. Who."

"Get off me."

"Answer me first."

The monitor behind him had gone from red numbers to nothing, then to six white words that sat there like they were waiting for us to notice: OVERRIDE ACTIVE — D. ROURKE, COMMISSIONER.

I looked past his shoulder at it twice before it landed.

"That's your code," I said. "That's your badge number sitting on my seal."

"I know whose code it is."

"So why's it on my screen instead of the countdown."

He didn't answer. That was the thing about Dean — the silence always meant he'd already decided something without telling me, and I was supposed to catch up on my own time. Not this time.

I got a fist into his jacket and shoved. He didn't move much — six-two of muscle doesn't move much — but I wasn't trying to move him. I was trying to make him feel it.

"You locked us in here on purpose," I said. "While the suppressants are dying. While I'm sweating through my shirt and you can smell every damn thing about me. You did that on purpose.