Wide-eyed, I couldn’t move as Spencer grabbed the tweezers, shoving them under another nail. Leo launched a kick into Grant’s nuts, forcing his arms to jolt and pulling the nail from its bed.
Leo was yelling now, the veins in her muscular neck popping out from the hilt of her sword tattoo. “When do the orders come down?”
Even through the pain, Grant wasn’t giving in on this.
A clatter came from behind me as Dom chucked his phone onto the metal tray, a rope wrapped around each of her palms as she approached the metal chair. About a foot of slack separated Dom’s hands.
Even in the dim light of the warehouse, I could see the twine digging into her flesh.
Moving behind Grant, Dom wrapped the slack around his throat and pulled back — her biceps and forearms flexing as she pulled with all of her strength.
In seconds, Grant’s face turned red as his airways were cut off. Lowering her mouth just inches from his ears, Dom’s voice was a low, earth-rumbling growl. “When. And where. Or this warehouse will be the last thing you see in your parasitic life.”
He didn’t cave, unwilling to tap out. Dom’s hands shook with the force of strangling him.
I couldn’t look away. And I knew I should want to, should want to hide from this violence. But as his face changed from red, to purple, to blue, I wanted to watch the life fade from his eyes.
He deserved it, didn’t he?
All of them did. Every man like him should have seen a fate like this.
Just as my eyes hungered to watch him die, his fingers twitched with surrender. Like every man, he would’ve hated to see a woman satisfied.
Dom released her grip, leaving the rope wrapped around her fists.
Coughing, Grant tried to get air down his throat. Once he’d gotten enough of his composure back, he spoke through a scratchy throat. “Right before we get sent out. They give us cash. Tell us the bar. Enough cash to entice any dumb bitch.”
Gritting her teeth, Leo asked one last question. “Where did you meet tonight?”
“The park, Valemont Center. No cameras, dark.” The words came out as a hiss. His head drooped as the exhaustion of all we’d done to him started to hit his body.
My head whipped toward Dom as the rope slipped to the ground, a gentlethumpas it hit the concrete.
She moved away from the chair, disappearing back into the darkness of the warehouse. Peering after her, all I could see was the swing of the closet doors.
It must be over.
Maybe she was just getting a knife to cut him loose, they’d knock him out and dump him somewhere.
Or maybe they’ll send him to the Gauntlet.
My skin crawled at the thoughts, the brutality. But after seeing what he’d done to that woman, what he must have done to dozens of others, I wouldn’t have minded watching him fight for his life against the Bull.
Some sick part of me didn’t want to see him leave this room, not with a pulse. If he got away, he’d be able to hurt more people.
More selfishly, he could report having seen me and an army of abusive tech bros would be hot on our trail.
But then Dom sauntered back into the light, her jacket gone and a brown, leather knife holster visible. Her sleeve of tattoos glistened with sweat under the intense light, her veins creating mountains along her arms for my eyes to follow.
Dom stopped next to me, standing closer than I knew she wanted to. Her blue eyes flashed down to my green, a fire burning behind them. My gaze moved down to her hands where she’d pulled a knife from her holster and unfolded the blade in one swift motion.
It wasn’t a normal knife. Now, it was a short, curved blade. Like the scythe of the grim reaper. But this was handheld, black from the handle all the way to the tip of the blade. It was pristine, like she’d bought it yesterday.
I knew from the way she handled the weapon that it wasn’t new.
From the chair, Grant started to thrash. “Let me go! I answered your fucking questions!”
Leo and Spencer squared their shoulders, both of them nervous for whatever was coming next. A tension filled the massive warehouse, like it was about to burst brick by brick.
