“It’s simple enough.” Day moved back to the door. “Pastern is remarkably gifted at escape. You are not. So we’re holding on to you. Even if Pastern can get you out of that cuff, the candles are set as wards, linked to you. I’ll know if you move outside them, and since we’re in the next room, if you break them I’ll be here long before you can get away. So.” He folded his arms. “If Pastern stays around, we will deliver him to the Metropolitan Police, who will doubtless offer a warm welcome, and we’ll let you go.”
Merrick cleared his throat sharply. Crane held up an authoritative hand.
“I’m sure you can talk to him later, Mr. Merrick,” Day said.
“I’ll talk to him,” said Mrs. Merrick.
“However,” Day went on. “If Pastern leaves us before we get to London, we’ll still have you. We’ll give you to the Met instead, and they can try you for perverting the course of justice, resisting arrest, aiding and abetting a fugitive, accessory to murder and, of course, for nearly killing Mrs. Merrick when you knocked her out and dropped her off a roof.” His even tone slipped a little on those words, cold anger slicing through like a razor’s edge. Ben could feel Merrick watching him, didn’t dare meet his eyes. “You won’t be as good a burned offering as Pastern, but you will do. So there it is. Enjoy your evening.”
He turned. Crane and Merrick, in silent unison, shoved Jonah forward, so hard he tripped and had to catch himself in the air so he didn’t fall on the bed. Their gaolers left the room, shutting the door with a click.
“They didn’t lock it,” Ben said, into the silence they left behind.
“Of course they didn’t.” Jonah sprang to the cuffs, glowering at whatever damage Day had done to the locks. “They don’t have to. Twisted sod. Bloody justiciars. I can’t do anything to these, he’s mangled the locks, and this is iron, for God’s sake. How strong is he?” He looked at the candles, reached out a tentative hand and jerked it back. “And I haven’t a clue what to do about those wards, I never learned anything about those. Oh hell.” Jonah sat on the bed, head in hands. “I’m so sorry.” He swallowed hard. “I’m scared.”
Ben’s chest and lungs were painfully tight. Not again, not again…
No, not again. He wouldn’t let it happen, the betrayal, the abandonment, Jonah’s tearful eyes before he ran. It couldn’t happen, because it would break him again, and this time he would not be mended.
“If they take you,” he began, and had to cough to clear his throat. “If they take you, they’ll hobble you. Won’t they?”
Jonah nodded, huddled into himself like a bedraggled bird. “They’ll cut me and I won’t be able to walk and… Jesus.” His hands were clenched in his hair. “They’ll take my flight.”
Ben took a deep breath. He filled his mind with Jonah, laughing over the cliff edge, sprinting up a church tower for a kite, fighting a storm to save a life. Jonah on the roof across from a brothel room, holding out his hand. Score me a try.
Nobody would take that from him. Ben would stop it happening, and it would be his choice to do it.
“Go.” He had to shut his eyes, but his voice didn’t tremble at all. “Get out. If you run now, you can be miles away before morning. They said that I’ll do, they won’t follow you. Go on, Jonah.”
Jonah lifted his head, turned and stared at Ben. “Are you serious?”
“Go,” Ben repeated. “Just—just go.”
“You—you actually…” Jonah was stuttering over his words. “You want me to run, while you go back to prison?”
“It won’t be that bad,” Ben said. “The accessory charge is nonsense.”
“I’ll tell you what’s nonsense.” Jonah whipped round so he was crouching on the bed on all fours over Ben, face white, eyes blazing. “You think I’m going to go, and leave you, again, as if—as if all this— Fuck you, Ben Spenser. Go to hell. I’m not leaving this room until that half-pint son of a whore drags me out, so fuck you if you think I’m leaving you, and fuck you twice if you don’t believe me, because I don’t know what else I can do. I—am—not—leaving—you. I said, didn’t I?” His eyes were brimming with hurt. “How can you think I’d do that? What do you think I am?”
“Oh God, Jay.” The pleasure of those words hurt more than any pain Ben could remember. “I don’t—I’m sorry—”
“You should be. What do I have to do to make you see?”
“Jay!” Ben grabbed for him, one arm brought up short by the chain. “Damn it! Jay, come here. Here.” He grabbed Jonah’s resisting arm and pulled, until Jonah gave way and tumbled forward, into his one-armed grasp. “Sweetheart, I… But listen, they will hobble you, and I can’t bear that. I won’t let them take that from you. Please go. Please.” He meant it now, with everything he had. He could endure anything for this. “It’ll be so much easier for me—”
“No. It’s my fault. It’s my turn.”
“That’s stupid. I’ll get a shorter sentence and easier time. I swear, Jay. You can wait for me.”
“You wait for me,” Jonah said. “I’m not going and you can’t make me and we need to stop talking about this because I think I’m going to be sick. Shit, Ben. I’m so scared.” He buried his face in Ben’s shirt.