My chest tightens as I glance down to meet Evi’s wide, frightened eyes. “It’ll be alright. Just stay back,” I warn, voice low and rough. “And for the love of God, please—no matter what he does to me—stay quiet.”
She shakes her head, her chin quivering, and whispers, “I can’t let him touch you… I can’t…” Her words are cut short by the sound of the cell unlocking.
The bars swing open, and my body tenses, coiled, ready, despite every ache, every bruise. The moment stretches—the world narrowing to the two of us and the shadow of Kenji’s presence.
“Please, Evi. Promise me,” I plead, throwing any sense of pride or ego out the window as I openly beg her not to put herself in any unnecessary danger.
She presses her lips together as the tears start to fall, and she swipes impatiently at them. Then, in a broken whisper, says, “Okay.”
Cradling the back of her neck, I press my lips to her forehead, inhaling deeply despite my throbbing ribs so I can breathe her in.
Then my head jerks as I turn to find Kenji stepping into the cell, his eye lingering on Evi, slow, predatory. I rise, drawing his gaze back to me as I step between them and stand to my full height.
“Delightful,” he murmurs. “I’m impressed, Sandro. You survived the night. But now… we have a real opportunity. Shall we start?”
Evi doesn’t rise, she doesn’t make a sound, but her fingers find mine as she slips her hand into my palm. I tighten my grip around her, squeezing her hand for reassurance, letting her know that I’ll endure anything for her. I won’t fail her. Then I release her and take a single step toward Kenji.
A flicker of fear dances through his eyes. Then his men are striding forward, one carrying a cattle prod to ensure mycooperation. But I’m not moving until Kenji leaves the cell. I won’t leave him in here with Evi.
“Chain him to the wall this time,” Kenji says, turning to stride out to the open room.
The men flank me, and I step forward, keeping my eyes ahead but listening to ensure they both follow me out and close the cell door. Then they steer me to the far wall of the chamber, where a similar set of chains to the one in my cage are bolted halfway up the wall. They’re shorter. I won’t have much range of motion, and I wonder if today’s brand of torture is going to be a bit more… delicate, more traditional to his heritage. Bamboo slivers under the fingernails, perhaps.
Or maybe we’ll be moving on to removing body parts.
I don’t relish the idea.
But that won’t break me.
The men turn me and chain me in place so I’m standing, my wrists hanging loosely at my sides. I won’t be able to lift them to defend myself. But then, it’s more freedom than I had yesterday. So I’ll take it.
Kenji watches with mild amusement, his eyes dancing as he stops just a few feet away. Then his dark eye flicks toward Evi, where she clings to the bars of our cell. My chest tightens. I’ve endured everything he’s thrown at me, felt every whip, kick, and strike, but now… now he’s looking at her the way a predator looks at a lamb.
“Get the girl,” he commands.
“Kenji, you bastard!” I snarl, jerking forward against my restraints, and he turns to look at me once more, pure vindictivepleasure written across his face. “You said this would stay between you and me.”
“Ah, see, that’s where assumptions can be tricky. I agreed to keep this between usyesterday. Today’s a brand-new day. And I have a shiny new toy I’ve beendyingto play with.”
The howl that wrenches from me is halfway between animalistic and crazed, and I thrash against my metal bindings, reopening the scabs beneath them as I jerk and strain with all my might. But they hold fast, and my stomach plummets to the cold, hard ground as Kenji just chuckles.
Then turns to watch as his men unlock the cell once more and step inside for Evi.
My heart hammers as I watch on uselessly as Evi retreats to the far wall of the cell, pressing her back into the rough stone like a frightened rabbit.
“Please,” she implores, her eyes round and innocent as she begs the guards.
But they’re as cold as ice as the one holding the cattle prod lifts it and pulls the trigger, sending a crackling line of blue electricity between the pronged points.
“No, please!” she cries, her hands flying up in an act of submission. “I’ll go with you. Just please don’t use that on me.”
The man lowers the weapon, and Evi’s hands drop, her arms encircling her waist defensively. Then they’re upon her, grabbing her upper arms, stripping my sweater off of her before they haul her from the cell with unnecessary roughness.
“Get your hands off her!” I snarl as they drag her toward the chains I was hung from not so long ago.
One guard flinches back, his steps faltering at the venom in my tone. Then he seems to find his backbone, and carries on.
Slapping heavy metal around her wrists, they lock the manacles in place, then lift her arms to attach them to the chains. They crank her up nearly as high as they did me, and it tears me apart to watch as Evi strains when she’s forced onto her tippy-toes, balancing precariously in her bare feet.
