A man sat there, bound to a chair, his face a canvas of blood and bruises. His legs were tied and so were his wrists.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to see in the darkness. I couldn’t see his fingers. Were they?—
A gasp of air shot from my lungs as my brain finally processed what I was seeing.
The man’s fingers were cut off.
“What the fuck…” I whispered, shock rolling through me.
His head was tilted back and his eyes closed, but there was something familiar about him. I took a tentative step closer and recognition instantly hit me.
It was the man who’d harassed me in the bar.
A static filled my head and I took a step back, but the ground tilted under me and I reached out for the wall, steadying myself.
The man never moved, which must have meant he was either unconscious or… dead.
My backside buzzed and rang at the same time, and I startled, gasping as my eyes darted around the room. The sound bounced off the walls, echoing so loudly it felt like it was coming from every direction.
“Goddamn phone,” I muttered, scrambling to yank it from my back pocket with trembling fingers while my eyes locked on the immobile man as I checked the name on the caller ID, then silenced it.
Just as I did, the man stirred, the chair creaking slightly, and I froze. Then my instincts kicked in and I was moving toward him.
Once I reached him, I pressed my fingers against his wrists, checking for a pulse.
“Hey. Stay with me,” I said, even though he was a pig. He deserved a cell, a trial, but not this slow bleeding out in a dungeon that smelled of rot.
The restraints were cutting deep into his flesh, blood dripping onto the stone. My hands were already working on trying to unbind him and failing.
So I tore his clothes off, trying to stop the bleeding. His skin was freezing. His breathing was shallow. I fought for him anyway, counting his heartbeats, refusing to let death take him without a fight.
Then his chest stilled and the pulse vanished under my fingers.
I stayed there, shaking, my hands stained red.
What the hell did I get myself into? Kian didn’t seem like a man who’d dothis. Maybe I was fooling myself, because he did promise to protect me, and this might be his version of that.
Taking a dazed step away from the body, then another, I slowly turned and made my way back up the stairs and out of this cruel, decrepit place.
I had just reached the top of the stairs when my phone buzzed and I noticed it was Violet again.
I answered it in a whisper. “Hello?”
“Sophie, it’s me. I have to talk to you.”
My stomach churned. “Okay.”
“Why are you whispering?”
I swallowed, letting out a strangled breath while my ears rang with terror at what I’d just seen. But the last thing I wanted to do was pull Violet into this mess.
“No reason.” I cleared my throat before continuing, “What’s up?”
“I had to call you right away. Your DILF is dangerous.”
“He did tell me as much himself,” I rasped more to myself than to her. I couldn’t help but take a whole new meaning from his proclamation. Maybe it was a warning. I let out a sardonic breath, staring at the red evidence on my free hand.
“What?” she squealed. “And you’re okay with it?”
