Collaroy spits at me, and I choke back a laugh as he fixes his stance, widening his grip before letting the crowbar swing free. And fuck me, the moron fumbles, letting the crowbar fly right out of his fucking fingers.
“Seriously?” I say, looking over at Talon as Collaroy rushes to get the bar. “This is what you’ve got out here representing the Bone Reapers? This is your future? Fuck, man. I’d get out while I still could.”
Talon clenches his jaw, and as Collaroy spares him a glance, he looks as though he’s about to lose his shit.
“Come on,” I continue, catching Collaroy’s stare. “Why don’t you hand it over to Nico? He seems to have a little more meat on his bones. Perhaps he could make a little progress. Rest those little scrawny arms of yours.”
Collaroy loses control and lifts the bar up before whipping it toward me, hitting me square in the ribs, and shit. I think he might have even managed to break one. “Now we’re talking,” I grin, egging him on. “Hit me again.”
He swings the bar over and over again, quickly losing control. Sweat beads on his forehead, but no matter how many times he hits me, no matter how many times he rams the end directly into my chest, or when the bar tears deep into my flesh, I don’t break.
There might have been a time this kind of torture would have broken me, but not now. Not after spending seven yearsin a maximum security prison. In comparison, this is a fucking breeze.
Collaroy quickly gets exhausted, and the moment it starts to show, Nico steps in and effectively takes out another two ribs. It goes on for hours, but nothing is going to break me, not when Aria’s life is on the line.
Nico switches up the game. Putting out cigarettes on my chest, burning me with a lighter, and carving a blade across my skin. Blood covers the ground beneath me, but it’s a fucking walk in the park compared to the mere idea that Aria is scared and alone in here.
“FUCK!” Talon roars, clearly frustrated by my lack of participation in this little performance. They’re more exhausted than I am, but just because I could keep doing this for hours, doesn’t mean that their abuse hasn’t taken a significant toll on my body. I won’t hold on to consciousness for much longer. It’s inevitable, but until then, I’ll continue to push, because the longer they’re focused on me, the less they’re worrying about Aria.
My arms ache from dangling from the chains, but I no longer have the strength to try and break through them, not like I could so effortlessly do with the prison chains. This is different. My lungs burn with every sharp exhale, my bruised and broken ribs threatening to end it all. But I won’t beg for my life. I won’t give them the satisfaction.
Why’d I have to put Aria in this situation? I should have found somewhere safe for her to stay, somewhere far away from this bullshit, where she would have had everything she needed. Fuck, I should have just let her go. She’d be home by now, safe in her apartment, watching all this shit unfold on the news, instead of having her face plastered all over it. I’ve stolen her life out from under her simply because I couldn’t fathom the idea of ever being without her.
Talon strides toward me, dragging his hand over his face as though having absolutely no fucking idea where to go from here. He hadn’t anticipated that I’d outlast all of them. Sure, he might have thought he’d have to put some effort in. But just like every other motherfucker he’s tortured, he assumed after the first ten minutes, I would have begged for mercy. Over my dead fucking body.
It would be easier if he were to just kill me, but he’s too fucking sick for that. To end my life without watching me break will never be enough. He wants to watch me die inside. He wants my suffering. He wants me on my knees begging for my life. He’s going to be very disappointed.
The second I can get one of these motherfuckers alone, it’s game over.
I will figure out where she is, and when I do, I’m getting us the fuck out of here, broken ribs and all.
Talon watches me, frustration burning in his vile stare as dark spots appear in my vision. My head spins as Talon reaches up, releasing something in the chains and making me drop.
I hit the ground hard, my vision swimming as my body begins to swell, but I’m too exhausted to move, and as if knowing that, he risks stepping even closer and crouching down, that wicked stare locked on mine. “You won’t break. I can respect that. Seven years in prison changes a man,” he murmurs, leaning in as his voice lowers. “The question is, what’s it gonna take? Your girlfriend, perhaps? Will you be begging for more when she’s the one screaming? Let’s find out, shall we?”
Fear detonates in my chest, claiming every inch of me, but the darkness hits harder, fading my world in and out as four blurred bodies begin to retreat. The heavyclangof the cell door slams closed behind them, echoing through the underground. But just as fast as the echo appeared, it fades, taking me along with it.
26
ARIA
Sitting in the corner of a run-down restaurant kitchen, I pull my knees up against my chest, my eyes swollen from the tears I’ve cried. It’s been hours, sitting here alone. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know whether Stone is alive or dead. I don’t know anything.
My wrists and ankles are bound, and as though that wasn’t enough, I’ve been chained to the leg of a heavy-duty metal table. If Stone were here, he would have had me thrown over his shoulder and racing out the door in seconds, but I don’t possess his superhuman strength that makes him capable of tearing through chains and lifting industrial-sized refrigerators.
I don’t possess a lot of things I need to get through this. Stamina. Strength. Bravery. The old me might have stood a chance. She had survival instincts, but this new me who’s spent the past seven years just trying to get by, she doesn’t have whatit takes. She spent four years in a job getting pushed around, and allowed her boss to railroad her big interview. Where the fuck is my backbone? Did I lose it the night of the fire? The night Ash tried to steal my innocence? He might not have gotten his chance to rape me, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t steal something from me that night.
Fuck.
Fresh tears stream down my face, and at this point, I don’t know where the hell they keep coming from. I just need to know that Stone is alright.
The moment he stormed out of that warehouse and found me in the arms of some gang member with a gun up against my temple, I expected a lot of things. I thought he would fight. I thought he’d find a way to save us both while leaving a trail of bodies in our wake. But the second he looked at me—truly looked at me—he dropped to his knees, and my soul shattered.
He wasn’t prepared to risk my life for his revenge, but he sure as fuck would give up his to save mine, and that’s exactly what he did when he submitted to them.
One of the men walked up to him and knocked him out with the butt of his gun. We were dragged away as though our lives didn’t even matter, as though we were nothing more than pawns to use in someone else’s sick game.
They brought us here, to an old Chinese restaurant that looks as though it has long been out of business. I was brought into the kitchen, shoved down on the ground, bound, and left. And this is exactly where I’ve stayed ever since. Nobody has come to check on me, nobody has even glanced my way. Don’t get me wrong, I prefer it this way, I just wish I knew what was coming. I don’t like the anticipation of not knowing what they’re going to do to me. Are they going to kill Stone and then use me as their little toy? Or will they just put a bullet in my head the moment they’re done with him?
