I can still hear her screaming my name.
There’s blood in my eyes and the pain from the next shot of the taser keeps me down. I do my best to get up, but I can’t see, can barely move…
“Landon!” She screams one last time, and then there’s nothing but the sound of footsteps, a car door slamming closed, muffled voices.
I pry open my eyes, praying they didn’t kill her, and a hand snakes out, closing around my throat.
“Not so tough, are you, Mr. Special Forces?”
NowI recognize the voice. The barely discernible Southern accent. The condescending tone.
I fucking knew it.
I should have ended him when I had the chance. And now it’s too late. For me and for Allora. I’m not afraid to die but I’m terrified for her. Because her death won’t be a quick one. In fact, what they have planned is probably worse than death.
My assailant pulls back his fist and as his sleeve slides up, I see it.
The verification I need.
A tattoo I’ve seen a dozen times.
Alonghorn.
Motherfucker.
I love you, baby.
I’m so sorry.
Keep fighting…
Then my world goes black.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Allora
Pain.
That’s all I’m aware of as I come awake.
I’m also cold.
Everything hurts but when I try to move I realize I can’t.
I’m restrained.
Using strength I didn’t know I had, I pry my lids apart and at first it’s too dark to see anything. Eventually my eyes adjust and I take in a dingy, sterile room. No furniture, no decoration. The walls and floor look concrete and—I jerk as I attempt to turn my head.
There’s something that feels like a chain around my neck, and it’s pulled taut. I can’t move my head much at all and when I try to move my arms I realize they’re also chained over my head.
I’m hanging by my hands and neck.
Fear crawls over me.
There’s a whimper from somewhere in the room and I wiggle my body just enough to see there are two other women, hangingin similar positions a few feet away from me. They look equally miserable.
“Are you okay?” I croak.
