She bites her lip, and I lower to kiss her. When she slides her fingers into my hair, I’m a goner until the phone shrilly breaks our moment.
Groaning, I break our kiss and roll over to grab it.
“We got him. Sent the location,” Curt says and hangs up.
“Burke?” she asks from behind me.
“Georgie’s been found. Did you plan that, too?” I roll over to look at her, and her wide grin tells me everything I need to know.
Sixteen
Clara
Iwalk around the glass cage where George is being held. He’s tied to the chair with thick rope that Curt used.
He has air holes and a steel toilet, which seems much more accommodating than what we had. A wave of shame rolls over me, and sweat beads on my hairline when I think about squatting and straining in the stall.
“Why use Bailey?”
He stares at me, but it’s like nothing lives behind the dark irises, and I hate it. “Convenience.”
Stepping over to the table Burke set up for me, I glance over the tools they brought. Wire-cutting clippers are something I’m looking forward to. An assortment of knives seems boring, but I know it’s not supposed to last forever.
Grabbing the drill, I unlock the door and close it behind me.
“You think I’m afraid of you?” he asks.
“I think you should rethink whether you are or not.” Stepping toward him, he attempts to stand, and I turn on the drill and watch it go through his arm. “Sick. I love it.”
Georgie wails and spits toward me. The bit is large, and although I thought it would leave a big enough hole, it’s not as large as I thought.
With his knees bent, I aim the next spot for his kneecaps as blood stains his pants. The distinct sound of bones cracking fills me with joy.
“CLARA.”
I whip my gaze to the door. Burke is standing with his hands on his hips with Curt close behind him.
Georgie wails again. I hit him in the head with the butt of the drill. With a thud, his head falls back—that was less than impressive.
“Why’d you ruin my fun?” I roll my eyes and walk away from the body so he can rouse again, closing the door behind me.
“You know the rules. They’re there—”
“—to keep me safe.” Putting the drill on the table, I wipe my hands on the towel and stare at both of them.
They want to be here when I’m torturing, in the event anyone gets loose or causes me harm.
Burke just doesn't know the immoral thoughts that brew deep within me, the moral compass I’ve tossed away whenever I am faced with another man who deserves to endure his punishment.
“Dragonfly, we’ve talked about this.”
“Okay, dad.” Folding my arms across my chest, I arch my eyebrow.
Burke’s jaw tightens, and his icy blue gaze burns into me. “Clara, this is only going to work if you follow the rules. I can’t stomach the thought of losing you again. This is controlled, and I don’t ask for much.”
Turning away, I go back to the table and think of what I should do next. The need to shatter his bones is strong because of what he did to Bailey, but pain is my only real thought.
Slapping fills the air, and Curt’s deep voice mumbles something to the scum stuck in the cage.
