“Vivian, we need leads. We’ve got people working on it already, but every bit helps. We need to find Raina,” I insist.
She gives me a firm nod. “Do what you have to do.”
“Vivian, don’t! Call the cops! They’re going to kill me!” Jeremy cries out.
Another legal aid gasps in terror. Someone insists they should call the police, but Bancroft shuts them all down with a loud, sharp hiss.
“I just hope they do it slowly,” Vivian says and turns away.
The basement of Bancroft’s building is dark but dry. It’s well-kept, with dehumidifiers and climate control blowing through an intricate ventilation system because it’s mostly a labyrinth of case files and settlements. There’s one room at the end of the narrow corridor that features a chair, a table, and empty metal shelves that have yet to be filled. It’s perfect for what we’re about to do.
“You don’t have to do this,” Jeremy keeps pleading, but he can’t muster any dramatic tears. Not yet, anyway.
“Actually, Idohave to, because you didn’t give us any other choice,” I reply.
Vincent zip-ties him to the chair, and Max closes the door behind us.
“You misunderstood us from the get-go, Jeremy. I told you we’re not to be trifled with,” I say, standing in front of him.
“I don’t understand?—”
I smack him hard across the face. “For every lie, you get one of these. And trust me, they get more painful the more patience I lose.”
“You said Raina was missing?”
I backhand him hard across the other cheek. He whimpers from the pain, like the coward he is. “She’s not missing, Jeremy. You took her. And then you sent us a video with the ransom request. Whether you did it all by yourself or you had help is what you’re going to tell us, if you want to make it to tomorrow.”
“I swear to God, I have no idea?—”
I hit him again. His whole body shudders from the force of impact. His blood sprays and spurts across the floor as I take a step back to avoid getting any of it on my clothes.
“Oh, God,” Jeremy cries out. “Somebody please help me!”
“No one can hear you down here!” I shout. “So do us all a favor and tell the truth. That’s all you need to do. Tell us who you’re working with, tell us where you’re keeping Raina, and you’ll live long enough to see the inside of a prison cell, I promise.”
Jeremy shakes his head and allows himself a satisfied smirk through the pain and fear. “And rid you of this misery? I’d rather not.”
“He’s either suicidal or a masochist,” Max grumbles. “Let me take a crack at him.”
I shake my head slowly. “He just thinks he’s buying himself time. Waiting, hoping someone upstairs will take pity and call the cops on us.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Jeremy replies.
Having lost track of how many times I’ve tried to slap some sense into the bastard. I punch him instead. Hard, with a left hook that whips his head around. He wheezes and groans from the pain, spitting blood on the floor before he looks up at me, defiance burning brightly in his eyes.
“Here’s the thing, Jeremy. The cops won’t help you. They’re too busy looking for Raina. Our people are working hard to find her, as well. Sooner or later, we will find her. I’d rather it be sooner. For your sake, Jeremy, you should, too. And if you think anyone upstairs is going to help you, you’re dead wrong. Because as we speak, your boss is telling them about how you’re blackmailing him”
“I didn’t blackmail him!”
“I don’t know who’s got Raina or if your endgame is just about the money, Jeremy. But it doesn’t matter. If you want to walk out of this building alive, you need to talk.”
“This is illegal!”
I hit him again. “So is kidnapping our woman.”
“I didn’t kidnap her!”
Again. My knuckles hurt, but I welcome the pain. It’s only a fragment of what he’s feeling, and I feed on that. I let it fuel my rage. I move to his ribs. He coughs and wheezes to the point of throwing up, so I step back to give him a moment.
