11
SAM
After a prison guard deposited Fred, handcuffed and shackled, into Jordyn’s cell five minutes after I’d arrived, the guard took her leave.
Tripp and I smiled at each other.
Let the games begin.
In one corner of the cell near the window, we had Jordyn Aberdeen salivating to sink her teeth into Fred Emery. If I were able to read her mind, I would bet she was wishing upon a star for fangs like Tripp and I had.
In the other corner opposite Jordyn and just inside the cell door, we had a man about five feet ten, military-cut brown hair, sharp brown eyes, and a scar that stretched from his left ear to the corner of his mouth.
I felt as though I was at Peterson’s boxing match as Tripp went over to Jordyn, and I pushed Fred deeper into the room.
The human stumbled but didn’t fall as he bared his light-yellow teeth.
“You must’ve royally pissed someone off to get a scar like that,” I said.
Fred jutted out his pointy chin, smirking. “A dead someone,” he bragged. “Why am I here?” He pushed out his chest, the blue jumpsuit stretching in the process.
I leaned against the cell door. “We’re just having a friendly conversation.”
Fred shuffled to the wall and leaned against it so he had a view of Tripp and Jordyn on his right and me on his left. His slow pulse told me he wasn’t nervous in the least.
While Tripp talked to Jordyn about how much time she had, I asked Fred, “Did you kill the person who gave you the scar?”
Up until now, he hadn’t talked. And as my sister had told me earlier, she hadn’t been able to read his mind. But he was proud of his battle scar, and those who had a high opinion of themselves loved to boast. Plus, I was curious to know who his victim had been. Vampire? Human? More importantly, it was imperative we had more insight into what made our enemies tick. My father lived by some of Sun Tzu’s teachings, and one in particular came to mind.If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the results of a hundred battles.
Fred sized me up. His expression was pompous, severe, and dark, like he was better than me but wanted to chop off my head. “Sam Mason. My brother has big plans for you.”
“Do you mean the chip that isn’t in my head anymore?” I touched the back of my skull, feeling smug. I never said I wasn’t arrogant. But I also wasn’t telling him top secret information.
The pretentiousness melted off his scarred face, and I gave myself mental high fives. The fucker had been out of touch with his brother’s so-called plans ever since he’d been our guest after the hospital incident at the beginning of April.
I folded my arms over my chest, enjoying the verbal sparring—a welcome change to the agony I’d been through during the last several hours. “You’ve missed a lot over the past three months.”
Jordyn stomped over, hands balled into fists, nostrils flaring. Hellfire was about to burn Fred alive. Before he had a chance to blink, she grabbed hold of his nuts.
Air rushed out of his lungs as he cringed, his facial muscles snapping taut.
Nicely done, Jordyn Aberdeen.
She twisted his balls in one direction, smiling like she’d won the lottery.
He squealed, turning ten shades of red.
Tripp and I swapped a pained but admiring look while Tripp took up a position on the other side of Jordyn and Fred.
“If you ever come near me again, I will rip these tiny testicles right off your disgusting body.” She twisted in the opposite direction. “Are we clear, asshole?”
He spat in her face.
Jordyn flinched but clung to his precious jewels like she was holding on for dear life. “Please do that again. I really want to feed your dick to the crows.”
No question about who she was: an Aberdeen—feisty like Layla. I hardly saw that side of Jordyn. She was and had been the levelheaded sister. The one who reasoned with people, gave them advice, and talked Layla down off a ledge many times. But Jordyn had no doubt reached her breaking point.
Fred trembled, his face dark red, pain dripping off him and saturating the air.
