A secret between him and Regan.
Something he couldn’t even risk telling Seth and Kaydon about.
So instead of telling Sabin he was full of shit, Bryson just waited until the door to his cell was open before punching the smug smile right off his face.
Sabin was momentarily stunned before he regained his senses and grabbed Bryson. Hand at the back of his neck, Bryson didn’t struggle further as Sabin smashed his face, not once but twice, into his cell bars.
The taste of copper filled his mouth, and Bryson spat blood on the floor.
His hand was twisted painfully behind his back, and Bryson caught Kaydon’s anguished look out of the corner of his eye.
The distance between them was killing Bryson.
Just a little longer.
Bryson tried to convey with his eyes that he was okay. That they didn’t need to worry.
Another guard locked the basement door as Sabin and Bryson passed through. Bryson allowed himself to be guided through the house and to the double white doors without any further incident.
Sabin raised his meaty hand to knock, but the door opened just prior.
Bryson was sure to give Regan a bloody smile just as he appeared in the doorway.
Regan’s gaze shifted to Sabin, eyes darkening. “What happened?”
“The fucker hit me,” Sabin said.
Bryson didn’t need to look at Regan. He could feel the anger crackling in the air. In an instant, the arm holding Bryson’s was dropped and Sabin was backed across the hall.
Bryson could see Regan’s fingers curling around Sabin’s neck, and he could hear the man struggling. No doubt clawing for some much-needed oxygen.
“My prisoners get punished by my hand or my orders,” Regan said, inches from Sabin’s face. “When they bleed, they bleed because of me.”
Bryson ignored the chill that broke out on the back of his neck.
For the first two weeks, theyhadbled because of him. Bryson had watched helplessly while Regan and his goons took turns cutting, belting, or hitting Seth and Kaydon. Bryson endured the same treatment, but he would have preferred it to be him that was dragged out of the cell. Rather than endure the torture of watching.
Every mark, every ill-intentioned touch was cataloged in Bryson’s mind. He would never forget what was done and by whom. And he would never forgive.
A few moments passed, and Bryson wondered if Regan was going to kill Sabin right there in the hallway. He couldn’t decide how he would feel about it, actually.
Regan released the man, and Sabin fell to the ground, coughing.
Regan turned on his heels and entered the room. Bryson didn’t need an invitation. He moved purposefully behind him, shutting the doors.
The space was the same as it had been the last several times Bryson had been in there. At a glance, it might appear to be a bedroom, with its large four-poster bed and attached bathroom. But if anyone spent any time in there at all, they would quickly realize it was more than a bedroom.
It was a well-designed torture chamber.
Bryson stood a few paces away from Regan, allowing his body to feel the energy.
Regan stood, arms crossed, just breathing.
“Is this how we are going to play it today?” Bryson said.
Regan took in a breath, running his eyes up and down Bryson’s form. Bryson’s skin crawled.
“Maybe I don’t feel like the usual today,” Regan said.
