“Nap time is over, Hope. Who brought you back to Salt Lake City and where are they now?”
I’m so dizzy. Tugging at my left hand does nothing. The right is half numb. Squinting, I think…shit. My wrists are zip tied to the arms of a metal chair.
“I need an answer.”
Answer? I don’t remember the question. It’s harder than it should be to lift my gaze to his. “Huh?”
“Rex, please remind Hope of the rules.”
Rules? What rules?
Fingers dig into both sides of my jaw, right under my ears. Weak, gasping breaths are all I can manage. A spiderweb of agony covers my entire face and trails down my neck.
“Huuuurrts.”
Simon leans close enough even my blurry vision isn’t enough to hide the rage in his eyes. With a jerk of his hand, he tells Rex to stop, and my head lolls forward.
He grabs me by the chin. “Who was on that plane with you? I know you couldn’t afford to charter a private flight here by yourself. You had no money. Nothing. So who is he?”
“The best lies have a grain of truth to them.”
“Wyatt,” I whisper. “His name is Wyatt.”
My answer must please Simon, because he pats my cheek gently. “So it is him. The man who killed Brix, Matteo, Preston, and Tommy. Wyatt Blake. Former Navy SEAL. Retired with a Purple Heart and the Navy Medal of Honor.”
He knows.
“Where is Mr. Blake now?” Simon asks.
How long has it been? The last thing I remember is falling—being dragged—down the stairs. I must have passed out. That’s how they got me into this chair. But after that? I can’t give up Wyatt’s location if I haven’t been here an hour. Ripper needs time to work.
I shake my head—big mistake. The room takes on a shimmer as a thousand stars explode in my vision. It’s so bright, it hurts. Or maybe that’s just the head injury.
Rex digs his knuckles into twin points just above each of my breasts. My scream echoes off the walls until I run out of air. He lets up for only a second, then starts in on me again.
Tears stream down my cheeks. My nose is running. Everything hurts. I writhe, desperate to get away, but the zip ties are too tight.
“Enough.” Simon pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket and swipes at my face. “Disgusting. I can’t stand to look at you in this state.”
“Then…don’t. Where’s…Bettina?” I have to stall. Otherwise, I might not survive.
With an eye roll, Simon steps back and tosses the handkerchief on the floor. “Tell me where Mr. Blake is now, and I will let you see that pitiful excuse for a maid. Keep fighting me, and Rex will move on to the more painful pressure points.”
More painful?
“The Grove Motel.” I hang my head, like I can’t believe I just gave up the man I love. “He…didn’t want me to go. I snuck out.”
“What room?”
My silence earns me what feels like an eternity of pure agony. Rex. His thick fingers just below my throat. Digging into—under?—my collar bones.
“Room…room thirty…one.” Did I say that out loud? I must have. The pain starts to fade. I can’t smell Rex’s too-fresh breath.
Simon nudges my chin up. Narrowed eyes regard me with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “Now we are getting somewhere. Does he know where I live?”
I manage a short nod. Got to distract Simon. Make him think what the team wants him to think. “He’ll kill you.”
His laugh sends a shiver down my spine as he turns his gaze to Rex.
