That was the only way she could describe herself, because Whitney did absolutely nothing to fight back, to at least give herself a chance, and then she was bound by her wrists, the rope lifted until her feet no longer touched the ground, and she hung from a tree.
Helpless.
After all she’d done to save herself, she was a captive all over again.
Chapter
Three
January 10th
11:23 P.M.
She was a timid little thing.
Her chest rose and fell harshly with each gasped breath she took, her heart hammered in her chest like it was looking for a way out, and her terrified eyes stared at him like he was the bogeyman.
Which he was.
This only played out one way, and it was with this woman bleeding, screaming, and then telling all.
Still, Blade had expected a little more fight from her. She hadn't put up a fight at all as he dragged her out of her bed, other than to grip his arm with her slender fingers in an attempt to ease the pain in her scalp. It was almost a disappointment. This woman was responsible for stealing a decade of his life from him, she had to pay for that, but he wanted at least a little fight from her. This felt like taking candy from a baby.
He'd take it, though.
In the end, whether this went easy or hard, he was getting the answers he needed. Every single thing this woman knew about the drugs and Dr. Gardner, he was going to learn. Then he’d offer her up like a sacrifice to his team, and they could all take the first step in their revenge.
Now that he had her strung up, hanging from the rope he’d prepared once he saw all the lights inside the house switch off, he was ready to get started. This place was remote enough he didn't expect any visitors, and he wanted her somewhere that he could do an easy clean up after he was done. How messy this got all depended on how cooperative the woman decided to be.
If she wanted to just offer up answers, then she could dramatically decrease the amount of pain she suffered. Not escape it entirely, though, she would pay for what she did, for all the pain he and his team had suffered at her and her colleagues’ hands, it was only fair after all.
As he stood before his pretty little captive, there was no doubting that she was the woman who had accosted Cassandra. She matched the sketch Cassandra had given them, but what that sketch hadn't quite captured was how young she looked in person.
Not just young.
Sweet.
Innocent.
Like she didn't belong there.
But Blade had to remind himself that she did belong there. She had been at the warehouse, she was the one who set off the explosives, had to be, she was the only other person there besides them and the mercenary. She was the woman who had issued the warning to Cassandra, so she was up to her neck in this.
Maybe that was why she was pale and shaky with shock, hadn't fought back, she thought she’d killed them in theexplosion, and now there he was standing before her. No wonder she looked like she’d seen a ghost.
“Surprised to see me, darlin’?” he drawled as he propped himself up against the tree beside the one his little captive was hanging from. Most people would be struggling, panicking, sending their body swinging wildly, but not her. She just hung there, limp and still. Not relaxed, though, not in control, just afraid.
Good.
She should be scared of him.
Not expecting an answer, Blade was pleasantly surprised when the woman slowly nodded. At least she wasn't so in shock that she was going to be of no use to him. While he wanted her terrified out of her mind, wanted her to get a taste of what it had been like for him and his team when they were held captive in a glass cell for three years, he wanted her cognizant enough to gather intel.
“Thought you could hide out here, Mary? Escape your fate?”
As he called her by the name he’d found on her ID when he searched her house after breaking in, she startled, as though unprepared to hear that name on his lips. She shouldn’t be. She hadn't bothered to hide her purse with the identification inside it, it had been sitting out on the kitchen counter, and of course, he’d gone through it.
Before breaking into the farmhouse, he’d contacted his team to let them know that the woman he’d followed was still there, that no one else had arrived, and he was ready to break in and collect her. When he found the ID, he shot off a quick text with the name so that his team could finally do a deep dive on the woman.
