“I’ll tell,” I hiss out the desperate threat.
David purses his lips and nods. And then a slow smile spreads across his face. “He knows, Jamie. Don’t you, Lyle?”
“Sure do, boss,” Lyle says from behind me.
“I can’t rape you, but I promise that if you don’t behave, I’ll have Lyle fuck you until this,” he grabs me between my legs. “Is as damaged as mine. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes,” I rasp, damn near choking on terror.
David withdraws a syringe, and my mouth runs dry. I’ll be damned if I give these men my fear. I secure my defenses and hunker down behind my wall to hide my panic as I watch him pull off the protective cap that covers the needle.
They broke Wraith, and theywillbreak me. It’s a matter of when and how.
“She’s shaking so bad, boss.” There’s a sick delight in Lyle’s voice.
David inches closer. “I can see that, Lyle.”
Odd how I sat in the company of killers and never saw such vicious joy until now, on the face of a man people once considered an upstanding citizen. A respected businessman. The reality of David Crane is that he’s a monster, and if I die in this hellhole, I’ll go to my grave knowing I did my part to show the world the evil behind the mask.
David grabs my face to hold my head steady. The needle pierces my neck in a pinch that’s followed by a warm wave. It hits my core and clenches my womb, awakening that empty pressure only Wraith can ease. I arch my back and press against the body behind me as a throaty moan rises from deep inside me.
“It only feels good for a moment.” David’s breath tickles my ear but sounds distant at the same time. Like a muted voice from a fading dream.
The arms around me loosen, and I stumble backward on the bed. My limbs are heavy and my head is wonderfully fuzzy, like when I was drunk. It’s too hot. Hotter than before. An oven blast and I’m tugging at my jeans. Tearing them off and tossing them away. I lie on that filthy mattress in the practical black cotton panties Wraith promised to rip off my body, but he never got the chance to because—
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
The pain hits swift and hard. A million shards of glass shredding my nerves. I hitch in a breath, and it hurts my lungs. Like I inhaled gasoline and swallowed a lit match. There’s laughter above me. All around me. The sound is ice picks jammed in my ears. Feels as if my teeth have been ripped out and every nerve is exposed. And when I try to scream, the agony steals my voice and renders me immobile. I’m trapped in my body, with my mind wide awake to endure an endless tidal wave of suffering.
There’s a shuffling of feet. A low conversation between David and Lyle. Then the younger man is gone, and it’s David and me. He kneels beside the bed and trails a finger over my bottom lip. I can’t hold back my cry, the simple touch more than I can bear.
The scream rips from me, reverberating off the walls.
“I do love you, Jamie.” Each touch of David’s hands is methodical. Meant to hurt me. “Your death will be my deepest regret.”
I watch him go, relieved he’s gone. Terrified to be alone. I claw at the mattress, remembering that Wraith had laid in this same spot for six months. He suffered exactly as I am now. If he had done it, I can do it. I’ll take it second by second. I remind myself to breathe, tell myself that my skin is not melting off the bone. That my fingernails aren’t being ripped away. Or that my nerves aren’t being torn to shreds. It’s synthetic pain. None of it real. The problem is, the agony is so extreme, it forces out logic and leaves nothing but mindless suffering in its wake.
24
Wraith
“This is a mistake.” Crow tracks my movements as I slap the loaded magazine in the Desert Eagle.
“Don’t give a fuck.”
“Yeah, well I do.”
“I don’t.” I shove the semiautomatic pistol in the shoulder holster strapped over my black T-shirt. “Discussion’s over.”
The Unholy descended on the grubby motel off Highway 42 over an hour ago, just after sunrise. Took us eighteen hours to get here. Damn traffic. Didn’t help that each truck we drove down in is hauling an arsenal. We had to keep close to the speed limit to stay off the radar while still making somewhat decent time. But we’re here, strung out from the drive, and so close to Jamie, I can feel her like an electric current.
“This is suicide, Wraith.” Jester’s cute if he thinks he’s going to talk logic at me.
Yeah, no.I left my rationale in Mayhem. I’m running on revenge. Crane’s going to do what he’s going to do. Only reason I’m complying with his bullshit is to buy time. Make him think I’m desperate enough to believe that if I give him what he wants—me—he’ll let Jamie live. He’s counting on me being too stupid to realize that he plans on killing us both.
Surprise, asshole. I’m not the dumb mountain hillbilly you think I am.
Nor is David the slick mastermind he believes he is. He’s as transparent as glass. But as long as he has Jamie, he holds the upper hand. That means I have to play by his rules until I can get close enough to rip out his fucking heart—even if I have to do it while taking my last breath.
