“Yeah. Take her next door. Put that gag back on her. Why’d you take it off?”
“Figured she didn’t need it all the way out here. Who’s gonna hear her anyway? Plus, we had to identify her.”
“Gag her again.”
“Fine.”
“Wait.” Another voice speaks up and I inhale sharply.
With the gag back on, there’s just no way I could ever alert Quill that I’m down here. Though I know there’s no hope he’ll find me anyway. But I’m only human. I can’t help but search wildly forsomehope to cling to, no matter how bleak things feel.
“No need to gag her. Give her a good beating, that’ll do the trick.”
Fuck.
“And if she makes any noise, I’ll gag her with my cock instead,” speaks up yet another voice, and some of the guys chuckle.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Careful,” says someone. “Coltello wouldn’t like it.”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll wait till he’s here.”
“When’s he coming, anyway?”
“Not till nighttime.”
Nighttime. Okay. Another little glimmer of hope forms in my breast, as I’m dragged toward another, tiny space.
There’s just enough room here for me… and my captor, who, after dropping me to the ground, follows me inside.
Fuck. Is he planning to…?
I never thought I’d feel relieved by the punch that lands once more on my face, but I am, because at least he’s not doing… the other thing.
My relief is of short duration, though, because that punch is just the start. I’m forcibly reminded of their threat to give me a good beating when my captor punches me in the stomach. I fall to my knees, but he kicks those out from under me, then kicks me repeatedly in the stomach, the back and the face, while I whip my arms out uselessly, incapable of putting a stop to the torture.
By the time he’s finished, I’m a wheezing mess, feeling like there isn’t a part of me that’s not bruised and bleeding.
It hurts to breathe, and I find myself fading in and out of consciousness, at first too shocked and in pain to do anything but lie there.
After a while, I manage to remain conscious for longer bouts of time, and I begin to cry, low, strangled sobs that make the pain that’s already wracking my body worse.
It hurts so much I wonder if he’s injured me internally. But I guess bleeding internally is probably a kinder fate than whatever Coltello has planned for me.
Then I stop thinking altogether, the pain so intense that I’m reduced to a shuddering pile of nerves, hoping desperately for sleep, or unconsciousness, or even death. Anything to keep from feeling the pain.
The last thought I do have, as I thankfully feel myself sinking into one of those three states—which one of them, I’m not sure of—is for Quill. The pain I experience from realizing I probably won’t see him again before I die is far greater than the one currently wracking my body.
Chapter 21
Quill
“So let me get this straight. You’re offering me an army… by having me kill your army.”
“Only the disloyal ones,” Tragen corrects me. “An army is only as good as its loyalty is.”
“These men have always been loyal to you,” I say, staring at the nineteen men who are still silently standing at attention around the living room. Even Liam and Dane don’t dare to break out of formation.
