Then cold water crashes over my face.
I gasp, my body reacting before I can stop it, my eyes flying open, and there he is, standing over me, blocking the light, his expression calm in a way that makes everything inside me tighten.
“Hello there,” he says softly, almost pleasantly. “Welcome back.”
The tone makes bile rise in my throat.
“Your brother…” He gestures lazily toward Mason. “Has not been very cooperative.”
Mason jerks against the ropes again, a muffled sound forcing past the gag, his eyes burning with helpless fury.
Russel doesn’t even look at him.
“So I decided to motivate him.”
He steps closer, his presence suffocating, his gaze dragging over me in a way that makes my skin crawl even if I can’t feel his touch.
“You can’t feel it, can you?”
I try to answer.
To tell him to go to hell.
But my mouth betrays me, words breaking into useless sounds.
He smiles faintly.
“There it is.”
A pause.
Consideration.
“I read something interesting recently,” he continues, almost conversational. “A drug that paralyzes the body… but leaves the mind perfectly aware.”
My stomach drops.
“You’re here,” he says quietly, leaning closer, “but you can’t do anything about it.”
No.
No, no, no…
“Bring the mirror.”
A moment later, it’s held above me, angled so I can see everything.
Myself.
Him.
His hand moves, slow and deliberate, testing, watching for a reaction he knows I can’t physically give, and Mason’s muffled cries turn frantic behind him, the chair scraping against the floor as he tries to break free.
I can’t look at him.
Someone grips my head, holding it still.
Forcing me to watch.
