George lifts his head when I stop in front of him. There’s defiance in his bloodshot eyes, but it’s fading. Being strung up like a carcass tends to break even the most arrogant bastards.
“You know what’s funny?” I say, voice low. “You spent so much time trying to scare her. You sent that pathetic excuse of a man to hurt her. You planned, plotted, played your little games. And still, you didn’t stop to ask yourself one thing.”
He glares at me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Between notes and flowers for my girlfriend,” I continue, tone sharpening, “did you ever once think to find out who I am? What I did before I came to this city?”
His eyes shift. There it is—that flicker of realization. He’s guessed something.
“Hmm,” I nod, stepping closer. “I see it now. You’ve figured out a little bit. Good. Then you know I’ve have… experience. A variety of entertaining methods for making death something that drags. Days. Weeks. Months.”
I glance back at Kade.
“My friend here,” I say, gesturing. “Kade, will let me keep you right here. He understands. Hell, he’ll help.”
Kade grins, all teeth and menace. “Take all the time you need.”
George tenses, but says nothing. So I lean in.
“Every time I come to see you,” I whisper, “you’ll know I just left her. That Ava is in my bed every night. Mine. My girl. My girlfriend. My fiancée, my wife one day.”
George flinches, a twitch in his jaw.
“And you? You’ll be here. Rotting in this room, hung like the pig you are. And the closest you’ll ever get to her again—” I let the words land slowly “—is when you smell her on my skin. When the same fingers I use to pleasure her are the ones I use to torture you.”
His face twists in rage and humiliation, and it only makes me calmer.
“She sleeps in my arms. She’s safe because I found her. You’re nothing, George. You’re a footnote in the story of her survival.” I say, eyes never leaving his.
“I’ll kill you,” he spits, struggling against the chains.
I laugh once—cold and hollow. “I’d like to see you try.”
Then I walk away, letting his rage and the weight of his defeat hang heavier than the chains that bind him.
Kade speaks from behind me. “What now?”
I pause at the door.
“Now? We let the boys have fun with him for a while.”
***
We’ve been here for hours, and George hasn’t said a damn thing that matters. That’s because whoever sent him didn’t give him anything useful. Whoever’s behind this knew exactly what they were doing—clean hands, clean trail. And that terrifies me more than anything.
I lean forward, blood dripping from my busted knuckles, voice low and cold. “Come on, George. Give us something, and this ends. You get a quick end.”
He mumbles something—words slurred and thick. No surprise. His face is swollen beyond recognition. Whatdoescatch me off guard is the curl of his lip, the twitch of something that could’ve been a smile if he still had a working jaw.
I’m about to ask what the hell he finds funny when I feel it…her.
I turn. And there she is.
Ava.
She’s standing in the doorway like some fallen angel, quiet, composed… watching me.
I freeze.
