Keep your fucking mouth closed,I warn myself.Let the jerkoff talk. Let him say any goddamn thing he wants. I won’t be baited. Words are all he’s got in his fight with Jamie and me.
Jamie and me.
As if we’re a thing.
We’re not. Never will be, even if we make it out of this alive. Jamie’s my means of escape. If she returned years ago, we might have had a chance. But she chose her path, and so have I, and those roads don’t run parallel.
So why is the image of her face giving me strength long after my body should have given up?
And since Crane’s determined to hurt us anyway…
I hock a mouthful of bloody spit at him.
Crane wipes the mess off his face with the hem of his shirt. “That was stupid.” His eyes are fixed on me, and I see the promise of a world of hurt coming my way. “Owen, bring me a needle and thread.”
And right here is where my brain has a semi-shutdown. Panic is a strange beast. Or is it the kick to the head that does it?Whatever. Don’t care. All I know is, I hope they kick me again, but harder. Hard enough to knock me the fuck out.
Yeah, no.Not happening. Crane wants me awake.
“Hold his head,” Crane instructs. Someone steps behind me and digs their hands in my hair to keep me still. “Tilt it up.” I’m readjusted. Ket’s a rolling thunder through my veins and repeated lightning strikes against my nerves. My vision clears, and I hyperventilate while I watch Crane thread a big-ass needle. “Yes, like that. Hold him just like that.”
At the first bite of the needle, a raging panic has me fighting against the chains again. Against the bastard who’s holding my head. The thread zips through my lips, and I lose it. Absolutely lose my damn mind.
Someone’s screaming so loud and so long, his voice goes hoarse. He’s begging Crane to stop. Brokenly pleading with the bastard, making desperate promises to do whatever they want if they just please stop. The rasping screams turn to muffled moans, and I come to the sick realization thesomeoneis me.
* * *
Ihang in a suspended state somewhere between being fully awake and floating into a painless abyss. I don’t move until my brain and body collide. Once they do… And oh my fucking God. Everything hurts. Literally. Every. Single. Inch. Of. Me. Feels as if my skin’s been peeled off and put back on all wrong. Like a jigsaw puzzle assembled by an angry toddler jamming together incorrect pieces.
Apparently, Crane continued the festivities after I’d passed out.
Ket’s not helping the situation. Shit’s amplifying the pain radiating from the damage.
And what the fuck is that annoying noise?
Thomas.
What’s he saying? Why can’t I open my mouth?
I crack open an eye. Thankfully, I’m in my cell facedown on my filthy mattress.Notin the torture room. Never thought I’d live to see the day when I consider this ten-by-ten coffin a safe space, but here I am, grateful for the familiar prison.
I’m on my stomach, and by the feel of it, there isn’t much of anything left to my back. Swear to God, I wouldn’t be surprised if my spine hasn’t been ripped clean out.
Shivering, I see something silver move across my line of sight. Can’t make out what it is, but I hear a little snip.
Another.
And another.
There’s tugging around my mouth. A tightness, and then loosening. Still can’t move my lips, and whenever I try, Thomas scolds me like I’m a kid picking a scab.
“Stop trying to talk.” Thomas gives something a gentle tug. It lifts my lips away from my teeth.Snip.“They gave you as much noz as your body can handle, but even with the max dose… Anyway, there’s going to be scarring. I doubt it’ll keep the women away.”
I’d grunt out a bitter laugh at his pathetic attempt at humor if I could, but I can’t, because honestly if I make a sound, I’m going to bawl like a fucking baby.
I’m so friggin’ pathetic. What kind of man cries because he can’t deal with some pain? Okay, this is more thansomepain, but still. I’m an Unholy—an enforcer. My name alone makes grown men shit themselves. Usually, all it takes is the threat of me to impact anyone stupid enough to cross our gang. But here I am, with fucking tears in my eyes.
Hell, I don’t even put up that much of a fight anymore. The guards hurt me? Okay, hurt me. When I fight, they hurt me worse. So, I let them do their thing because it’s over quicker that way. But Crane mentioned Jamie, and I broke. He did things to me in the torture room today that had me begging.Fucking begging.An Unholy never begs. But there I was, on my fucking knees, ready to do anything to stop what they were doing.
