Fucking hell!
He’s spilling everything, and this time I believe him. Unfortunately, this also means his time is about up. While he tells me what he knows, I’m preparing to give him his last rights.
“I swear that’s all I know. I didn’t even meet the other person until we met at the designated GPS coordinates they sent us. We both followed different ones until we finally met up there. Each location had a recording that left us with instructions.”
I reach for the cage on the cart as the chirping and hissing of the rats cut off his snotty sobs.
“Have you ever heard of rat torture?” I ask, placing the cage on his stomach.
“Please, please, please,” he begs. He should save his pleas for what’s about to come.
Ignoring him, I continue, “It’s when you take rats like these and make them feel trapped in a dangerous situation. And if you know anything about rats, you’d know they’re resilient little shits.”
I move around him, locking the cage in place, before pulling the bottom out, giving the rats nowhere to go. I grab the blowtorch, hang it on a hook right over the cage, and turn it on. The rats sense danger and stir, their squeaks growing frantic.
Shrugging, I say, “So when someone takes a steel cage and heats it, they try to find their way out. You should’ve never touched a selection. That’s where you fucked up first, but where you fucked up royally was coming into this town and thinking you’d ever make it out alive. You should’ve talked earlier then you wouldn’t be here with me. I hope your chant can save you now.”
Stepping back, I lean against the wall and watch the rats burrow their way out, not moving a muscle until I can hear his shrill screams cut off. Part of me wonders how much of this was for answers and how much was for a girl I’m not sure we can trust.
37
ARIAH
Mondays are the devil. My head is still pounding as I make my way to the gym. School got out a few hours ago, but I stayed to work on some new tactical moves with Mikhael. My throat almost closed running through scenarios with anyone but dad, but with everything happening, I can’t afford to let sentiment get in the way of safety.
I was heading out when I discovered I didn’t grab my phone off the bench in the locker room.
The squeak of shoes on the linoleum floor makes my senses go on high alert. My ears perk up, and I subtly increase my pace. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I won’t be caught off-guard.
I’m almost ten feet from the girls’ locker room when one squeak turns to a few. Turning my head slightly, I let out a sigh when I see it’s only some idiots leaving football practice.
My entire body loosens.Paranoid much bitch?Not that I don’t have good reason to be, but Thomas has assured me that they have increased security measures. So, the school should be safe.
I see my phone right where I left it. Grabbing it off the bench, I turn to leave when the lights in the locker room cut out.
Oh, fuck no!
I sense the hands before they reach me. I jump back, only to bump into another body, their hands wrapping around my frame, trying to immobilize me.
The same distorted voice from the recording whispers in my ear, “Keep still, and this won’t be all bad for you, you trash slut!”
What the fuck?Only one person in this damn school calls me that.
“Wes?” I ask, lifting my foot to kick my docs into this asshole’s shin. I can’t believe he would do this.Wait. Yes, I can.
The voice speaks again, “You wish we were one of the heirs, you money-hungry cock tease. But don’t worry, we were told you like it rough and dirty, and we’re here to satisfy your every depraved need. Aren’t we?”
“What the actual fuck are you even talking about?” I’m outnumbered and alone, but my mouth can’t seem to give a fuck. “I don’t know who told you that, but fuck you and your plan,” I say as I swing the heel of my boot and head back simultaneously.
I hear the crack of a nose breaking and shrieks of pain as I’m released from the arms of whoever is holding me. Not hesitating, I dodge the sounds of swearing and shoes against the floor.
“The stupid bitch broke my nose,” the asshole starts, but I don’t stick around to hear the rest of what he’s saying.
Instead, I take off, darting to the door, running straight into the hulking arms of some Bruce Banner sized motherfucker.
“You might as well stop playing hard to get, or this won’t be as gentle for you,” his distorted voice whispers before licking the side of my face.
My body goes tight, muscles constricting, trying to hold off the roiling in my stomach. I have nothing witty to say here. I just need to survive.
