He searched his foggy memory and dredged up a vague recollection of a pinprick in the side of his neck, then nothing. Okay, then. Definitely drugged. The question now was why?
Slowly, more and more of his memories resurfaced. Thank God. At least he didn’t have to worry about permanent mental damage, which would limit his effectiveness as an operative in the field. There were other things he could do at Fortress, but he loved his job as a field operative.
And none of that helped him figure out where he was and who had taken him. He might learn a few more clues if he opened his eyes, but was he alone?
Elias remained motionless and listened. He heard nothing except his racing heart. That was odd. Most places weren’t truly silent. His heart skipped a beat. Unless he was in a soundproof room.
Nothing like a soundproof room when you torture information from a prisoner. Is that what this was? A torture room to force information from him?
If so, his captors were in for a disappointment. His trainers at Personal Security International had surpassed the military’s training by an enormous margin. Fortress operatives were privy to many types of classified information, and Maddox didn’t want any of it leaking from his people. Looked as though Elias would put PSI training to the test soon.
He waited another minute and still heard zip. He was probably alone for now. Elias opened his eyes to slits and saw darkness. He held perfectly still as his heart raced at breakneck speed. Was he blind? He tried to swallow and found he couldn’t, not with his mouth as dry as the desert sand back in the Sand Box.
Elias turned his head from one side to the other, scanning for anything, especially light. Finally, across the room, he saw a sliver of light at the bottom of a closed door. His muscles relaxed slightly, and his heart rate slowed.
He shuddered. All right. He could see and hear. He forced his mind to work, sluggish as it was. Where was he, and who had him? And, oh yeah, who handcuffed his hands to two chains hanging from the ceiling?
Elias stood, taking his body weight off his wrists. Immediately, the excruciating pain eased to a dull throb. His legs might be weak, but at least they held him up. He’d take the minor victory.
He flexed his wrists, testing the shackles that held him. Solid. Felt like handcuffs. The corners of his mouth curved upward. Good. He knew how to deal with those.
Before he could work up the energy to ease the handcuff key from his watchband, a key rattled in the lock and, seconds later, the door flew open and light flooded the room. Elias closed hiseyes against the glare, waited a few seconds, then slowly opened them to slits.
So bright. Holy smoke. Pure white paint over concrete blocks. He stood on a concrete floor with a drain beneath his feet. Nice. Left no doubt as to the purpose of this room.
In the doorway stood two men, both large enough to play center for the Dallas Cowboys. Their muscles had muscles. He held their gazes. Blondie looked over his shoulder. “He’s awake, sir.”
Whoever was calling the shots said something that Elias couldn’t hear, but the men took positions on both sides of the door. A moment later, two more bruisers stalked into the room, their eyes expressionless.
Oh, goody. Guys who liked to hurt others. He hoped his teammates knew his location because the next hours would be painful if they didn’t intervene.
At that moment, he noticed heat near his shoulder blade and breathed easier. Fortress had locked onto his location. It was only a matter of time before his teammates arrived. And Iona.
Man, he hoped she had escaped his captor’s clutches. Beating him was one thing. Beating the woman who was his reason for living was something else entirely.
The two bruisers stood aside and allowed someone else into the room.
Elias stared. Well, look at that. Turned out his woman had an excellent read on this situation after all.
Eddie Knight smirked as he studied Elias. His lips curled as he folded his arms across his massive chest. Wearing the Reckoners’ cuts made his arms appear even bigger.
Elias looked at the man who had single-handedly made his childhood miserable. Although the temptation was there to spout question after question, demanding answers to them, he kept his mouth closed. From this moment on, every decisionmust be made with the end goal in mind. Survival. Soon, his father would instruct his cronies to teach Elias what it meant to refuse Eddie Knight’s commands.
“You say nothing?” Eddie stalked toward Elias. “It’s been a long time, Elias. Maybe you’ve forgotten that I expect respect from people, especially my family.”
He held his father’s gaze, pushing his buttons. Anything to keep him off balance, even though doing so was akin to taunting a starving lion. There was a price to pay for telling his father no.
Eddie Knight kept coming toward Elias, fury burning in his dark eyes.
So, he was angry, huh? Dad could join the party. Elias was so far past angry that he’d slipped into a vat of fiery rage. Did his father believe him to be so weak that he would give up his hard-built life without so much as a whimper? Not happening.
His father reached Elias a second later and punched him in the gut.
Well, crap. That hurt. Sucking in air took a minute. While he struggled to breathe, Eddie watched with a sneer on his face. His goon squad showed no emotion as they looked on. Real neighborly of them.
“Would you like to reconsider, Elias?” Eddie’s voice had a harsh quality that warned of big trouble ahead if you weren’t careful, and was almost as intimidating as Brent Maddox’s version. Eddie had nothing on Maddox, though. His boss could make grown men shake in their shoes when he was angry.
Maddox was lethal, the kind of lethal that would end with you on a metal slab if you came after him, his family, or any of his people.
