So they can hurt me.
My world shrinks down to a single pinpoint of light coming from a crack in the wood. It’s so small, I wonder if I’m imagining it. But it’s all I have. The only thing that can stop me from going under.
They’ll keep me in here for hours. Alone. Freezing. Until I can’t stand another minute. Until I’m so frantic, so cold, so desperate to see daylight, I won’t be able to stop myself from begging.
François won’t listen. He won’t care.
And then…there will be pain.
* * *
Bright light sears my eyes,and I squeeze them shut so I don’t have to see what’s coming. I’m so cold, the hands that yank me out of the box burn my skin.
“I hope you slept well, street rat,” Theo says. “It’ll be the last good rest you get for a very long time.”
He drags me across a smooth floor, and when I open my eyes to slits, I see nothing but gray. Concrete. It’s a huge space, given how Theo’s voice echoed.
A hint of warmth bathes my frigid limbs, and I relish in it until it turns hot. Then my skin starts to burn.
Theo drops me, and I crumple in a heap on the floor that feels like liquid lava. Logically, I know it’s not, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Whimpering, I try to stretch out my legs, but crippling, agonizing cramps put a stop to that. So many sensations hit me at once, I don’t notice Theo cutting the flexi-cuffs until my arms flop forward and my shoulders cry out in pain.
“Get her up,” he orders, and a shadow looms over me.
Robbie—one of François’s minions—yanks me by the arm and throws me into a chair. I’m too weak to stand or fight, and Theo knows it. He and Robbie take their time, tying my wrists to the arms of the chair with thin cord. My ankles are bound together next, and I realize why it feels like I’m burning to death.
Heat lamps. They surround this small area.
“You can scream as much as you want,” Theo says, stepping in front of one of the lights. Backlit, he looks like a Neanderthal. Then again, he looks like that on his best day. “And youwillscream. We have put our lives on hold for you so many times over the past four years. Because you betrayed us. You stole from us.”
“Fuck you. Ileftand François framed me for murder.” My head is almost clear, but it does me no good tied to a chair. If no one cares if I scream, we must be in the middle of nowhere. Or in a neighborhood that’s totally deserted. Boston doesn’t have many of those.
Theo leans closer, and the syringe in his hand makes me squirm, but all I manage to do is rattle the chair. The needle pierces the skin of my elbow, and he grins as he depresses the plunger.
“The last time we were together, I did not know half of what I know now. For example, I can inject you with a mix of powerful stimulants, and not only will you feeleverythingI do to you on an even grander scale, but you will not be able to pass out from the pain.”
My heart is already racing, and as the drug works its way through my body, my skin prickles, and it feels like my head’s about to explode. “What…did you…give me?” I wheeze.
His laugh is completely at odds with the cold detachment in his eyes. “Do not worry about that. Worry about what comes next.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Zephyr
“Ready for more?”Theo taunts.
Robbie pries my thumb from its death grip on the arm of the chair.
The four other fingers of my left hand spasm uncontrollably, a needle protruding from under each nail.
“D-do…it,” I rasp.
My heart races from the cocktail of stimulants, and even the gentlest touch feels like sandpaper on my skin. Under the heat lamps, my body burns, and I can’t catch my breath. “I needed…a manicure.”
Robbie frowns—he never was the smartest—and looks up at Theo, my thumb clenched in his fist so hard, he’s about to snap the bone. “Are you sure this is painful?”
Theo cuffs him on the side of the head. “She’s lying, idiot. Hold her still.”
