ATARAXIA • BELLAMY BLAKE

[ 6 3 ]

When I step back into the main room, Jasper is sat there, hunched over one of the tables. It takes me a second to realize what he's doing. There's a piece of scrap metal in his hand, and he's jamming it into the handcuff I hadn't noticed was locked around his right wrist.

I stop off to the side when I notice a bucket sitting under a slow drip from a leaky spot in the ceiling. It's half full. Probably's been there a while.

I grab a cloth from beside it and dunk it in the water, squeezing it out before scrubbing the blood off my hands. It's already drying in the creases of my skin. I keep my focus there, but I'm watching Jasper from the corner of my eye.

The metal slips in his grip. He swears under his breath and tries again.

When I'm done, I toss the cloth back over the edge of the bucket and move over just as he finally gives up, the piece of metal clattering onto the table hard enough to knock over a small box. A few loose trinkets scatter across the surface, dropping to the floor.

I glance around out of instinct, but Niylah isn't here to see him make a mess.

"I can't," he says through gritted teeth, his hand flexing. "My hand is too shaky."

"Yeah, well," I mutter, crouching to pick up what fell. "Coming down from a four month bender will do that to you."

He doesn't bite back. Doesn't even look at me. He just continues staring at his hands.

I set the things back on the table. "I'm sure we can find something in here to pry those off."

I move away, starting through the nearest crates. Most of it is junk. Old parts, scraps, things that might've been useful once. I dig through a drawer, then another, before I find something that might work. Pliers. Not great, but better than nothing.

"Try these," I say, tossing them over without looking at him. I hear him catch them, then the scrape of metal against metal as he tries again.

I keep searching. If we had bolt cutters or a saw, they'd be obvious.

"It's not... working," he says, still trying anyway.

I switch what I'm looking for. Something smaller. I go back to the drawers, pushing things aside until I find a thin piece of metal, narrow enough to maybe slip into the lock.

"Here," I say, heading back. "Maybe this'll work."

He drops the pliers without argument this time. I sit down next to him and take his wrist before he can second guess it, turning his hand so the cuff catches the candlelight. His skin is cold.

I focus on the lock, easing the metal piece inside, feeling around for anything that might give. I can feel him watching me.

"You okay with her coming back after all of this time?" he asks after a moment, voice quieter now.

"Who, Clarke?" I ask, even though I know. He nods.

I exhale through my nose, eyes still on what I'm doing. "I think... that Clarke is the least of our worries right now."

He lets out a dry scoff.

"With everything going on," I add, adjusting my grip when the tool slips, "we need all the help we can get."

Footsteps sound behind us. I glance up just enough to see Bellamy standing there, watching.

"And you?" Jasper asks, not even looking at him. "You okay with her just showing up and taking over?"

Bellamy steps closer, rubbing a hand over his mouth before dropping it. "She's trying to save Raven."

That gets Jasper to look up. There's a beat of silence. Then he gives a small nod. "Guess she thinks Raven is worth saving. Lucky for her."