a redhead's dream | a.d

Chapter Twenty Two

"You've got ta be kiddin' me!"

Lane was in the Refuge. Again. And that wasn't even the best part.

"Could ya be any loud-ah?" the voice behind her growled.

Lane sent a kick into the back of Frisks' calf, smirking smugly when the girl grunted.

Yup. For once, Lane wasn't the only one tied to a chair inside the Refuge.

Although she was curious about why Frisks had also been kidnapped — and also about the fact that if it wasn't Frisks who'd taken her, then who could it have been? — Lane made a point of not making any conversation with the girl. She didn't want to accidentally give away any information that could help her, or at least that could give the girl an edge. But mostly, Lane just wanted to irritate her.

Only downside was that she wasn't able to get any information from Frisks.

Unfortunately for her, she'd been stripped of her beloved knives once again. Lane swore that one of these days, she'd have them on her, and then she'd be able to escape. While the two girls grumbled with annoyance to themselves because of their most unfortunate predicament, Lane took in her surroundings. The Refuge was cold and empty, and seemed to have been for some time. It was her first clue that something drastic had happened between the time that she'd been inside the Refuge, and then. Not to mention the fact that it seemed Frisks had also gotten on someone else's bad side, if she'd been tied up there as well.

And as much as Lane itched to ask, she refrained.

She was strong.

She would not give in to her curiosity.

But each minute that passed proved this task to be much harder than she'd anticipated.

Where was Finch? Where were her knives? It took her a moment to remember that Domino had forbidden the two to see each other, and cursed them both for her lack of resources.

"Finch Cortes," Lane growled to herself, "dis really ain't tha time ta pull a disappearin' act like me faddah."

A moment of silence passed between the two girls, and suddenly, Lane knew she had made a grave, grave mistake.

"Finch Cortes?"

Lane kept silent, not wanting to give anything else away.

"I left The Unknowns," Frisks told her, confirming her suspicions. "I found it was better to go rogue when I figured out what I needed ta get what I wanted."

Lane didn't even want to know what she meant by that.

"Brooklyn, of course, was always right dere," she continued. "Yet no one could ev-ah seem ta know how ta get past Sean, not even you."

Lane tensed, unsure of where the girl was going with this.

"So I had me eyes 'n ears do a bit 'a sneakin' around," Frisks said, "'n I got news dat Spot was plannin' on givin' his throne, my throne, ta someone else. So I killed him."

Lane couldn't hold back her surprise. "What?"

"Do you know what tha name Cortes means ta me, Lane?" Frisks questioned. "It was me muddah's last name before she married."

Lane froze as a certain conversation from Brooklyn's lodging house came back to her.

"Spot, where did tha name Cortes come from?"

Spot winced, like he'd been hoping she wouldn't ask. "Our muddah. Before she married."

"Yer Brigid Colon," Lane breathed.