Текст книги "Last Breath"

Автор книги: Jessica Clare

Соавторы: Jen Frederick
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

“What brings you to our beautiful city?” he asks. I tell him the entire story. When I get to the part where Regan is at the brothel of Gomes, Mendoza stops me.

“Silva, go and bring Gomes here.”

He waves for me to continue.

“There isn’t much more. Gomes works for Hudson, who must have sixty men guarding him at all times. Petrovich’s hacker is in there.” I don’t say what I know must be true, what I haven’t been willing to acknowledge since I stood on Monkey Hill hearing Regan read the email from the snitch’s phone. Naomi must be the Emperor—the hacker that Petrovich is desperate to get his hands on and she’s likely the same one controlled by Hudson. I don’t want Petrovich to know that his hacker is a woman and my sister. That fight will be for later. I just need her out of there.

“We do not have the manpower to have a shootout with a U.S. government contractor who provides security services to the Embassy,” Mendoza admits grimly. “I’ve lost one of my own to him. We’ve sent men in to find our lost dove, but they’ve come up empty. Where the girls are stored, I do not know. We’ve not acted because of his military ties but . . .”

“It’s time to take him down,” I declare, and Mendoza gives me a short nod. Mendoza’s power is in question here. Hudson must go.

“Perhaps we do not need the manpower,” Petrovich suggests. “We simply need to get inside, Daniel and I. From there, we can extricate one woman and one man.”

“Vasily is right. Finding Naomi in is our biggest challenge. We can fight our way out.”

“What do you know of Hudson, then?” Mendoza asks.

“He is a wealthy U.S. military contractor with a thing for North American blondes. Likely has control over the Emperor.”

At this Mendoza starts. “The Emperor? Of the Emperor’s Palace?”

Petrovich nods stiffly. “He is mine.”

I try not to hit him. Naomi belongs to herself. To the Hays family. Not to some Russian madman.

Mendoza whistles. “He must be making a fortune with all the illegal money he’s moving through that network.”

“I am not interested in the money,” Petrovich says. “I need the expertise.”

“We need more information,” I interject. I’m not a fan of hearing Naomi being referred to as a man, especially one that Petrovich wants. “We don’t have the time.”

Mendoza nods and then reaches for the phone on his desk. He is too far away for us to hear even though I’m straining. We all are.

“What’s he saying?” Regan asks. The Portuguese is too faint and rapid for me to make out.

“Not sure, but he mentioned the consulate.”

When Mendoza returns to us, he says, “I’m having someone come who may be able to provide some insight. Until then, let’s have something to eat.”

A spread of fresh fruits, meats and cheeses is set out buffet style in another room, one that faces the large gravel area and the burn marks.

“What have you got going on here?” I ask Mendoza as we stand in front of the large windows.

“Security, Daniel.”

“I’ve heard that you were doing freelance work after you separated from the army.”

“I’ve heard the same about you.”

“My sister was kidnapped. I had to find her. Making money killing bad guys while trying to gather information seemed like a bonus,” I reply.

“And for me, I need money to build my army here.” He taps the window. A throng of young kids have come to the top of the hill, and they move down the gravel expanse toward a grassy field I didn’t see initially. “These people are my family. Did you know that the Roman Empire was so powerful that the citizens could walk throughout the land unmolested? It was known that even the least of the citizens was so important to the empire that if even one was maimed, the entire beast would fall upon the violator’s head. I want that for my people. I want for them to walk through any street in Brazil or Africa or the United States and for people to know that if one of mine is hurt, the entire hand of God will rain vengeance upon them and their family. Hudson is a blot on our record, and this is a perfect opportunity for me to make a show of power. So I’ll help you, and then someday you can return the favor.”

“No problem.” Madmen and their compounds. I need to get me one of those.

A scuffle outside draws my attention to the front doors. The soccer game has stopped, and the children stand in a loose line as a man is brought to the field. He is strapped down onto the granite slab. Many of the children disperse but a few older ones remain.

“Regan,” Mendoza calls out. “We need an identification.”

We troop out into the sun toward the granite altar. When we reach it, the man is securely tied spread eagle on the slab. He is completely naked, and there is a leash around his dick, pulling it downward between his legs.

“It’s Gomes,” Regan says in a gasp.

Mendoza nods at one of his soldiers who holds a whip-like object in his hand. “Positive ID confirmed.” At the nod, the whip sails out and lands with a snap right between Gomes’ legs. Petrovich and I grimace while everyone else stands there like this is any other Saturday. Gomes’ screams ring out in the courtyard, scaring up birds and other small animals in the foliage. With a backward glance, I note that the five or so kids left on the soccer field are still motionless, as if they are in class learning exactly how to run a mercenary empire.

“Ask your questions,” Mendoza orders. Regan and Petrovich look to me. Scratching my head, I lean over—not too close because I don’t want the whip to accidentally strike me in the balls.

“Gomes, you look really uncomfortable.”

He’s sniveling; tears and snot are running down his face. It’s an ugly look for him. “Let me go,” he pleads. “I know nothing.”

“The thing is, we kind of know that’s a lie.” I give a nod to Mendoza, who relays the silent order to his whip man. The leather sails out, and now that I’m closer I see there is a granite ball at the end. It makes another thud as granite strikes granite, the small column of flesh doing little to cushion the impact. Even though I’m expecting the blow, I still cringe—but maybe that’s due to the high-pitched scream coming out of Gomes’ mouth.

As sadistic as this is, though, it’s the right punishment if you believe in the eye for an eye concept which Mendoza clearly ascribes to. Gomes is slobbering now. “Why Regan?” I ask.

He turns slightly, his eyes unfocused with pain. “Hudson likes blondes. They remind him of his wife. But this one, so mouthy. Hudson sends her to me for training.”

“Then what?”

He opens his mouth and then closes it.

“Bad choice,” I counsel and look up to Mendoza. The ball falls again and this time I’m prepared. I don’t think Gomes is though. We wait until the pain and screams subside, and I ask him again. “What happens when the girls are trained?”

“They go back into his compound. They serve as his companion until . . .” Gomes trails off, but we can all finish his sentence for him.

Mendoza waves his hand and the men disappear and the kids go back to kicking their soccer ball.

“There’s your way in,” he says with a pointed look toward Regan.

“No,” I shake my head. “Not happening. We’ll think of something else.”

“There is no other way,” Petrovich argues.

I look at Regan because right now she’s the only one who matters. I don’t want to leave my sister in the hands of Hudson, but I can’t send Regan back to be raped again. I won’t. There’s another way. I have to figure it out.

Twenty-two

Regan

DANIEL ’S GOT AN AWFUL LOOK on his face. It’s the look of despair, of a man who’s backed into a corner and has no way out.

He can either send me in to Hudson’s hell in the hopes of getting his sister or he can forget about her. Either way, he’s miserable. He shakes his head again at Mendoza. “Fucking forget it, man. I just got Regan out of there. No way in hell am I sending her back to that sadist.”

The big Russian, Vasily, only looks over at me, as if waiting for me to interject. To him, I’m another playing piece, one that is obviously only useful on my back. He’s not wrong, though. I’m the one mucking up all the works, here. I’m the one who slowed Daniel down. If it wasn’t for me, would he already have his sister back?

“How long?” I ask.

“Regan, no,” Daniel’s voice is furious. “I’m not sending you back in to be raped—”

I move to his side and pat his arm, trying to soothe him. He’s practically bristling at my suggestion, and I know he hates it. “We didn’t come this far to turn around, Daniel. I can do this.”

After all, what’s one more rape in my logbook? I don’t say that out loud because I know if I do, Daniel will shut down entirely. I want to do this for him. For him and for his faceless sister who’s stuck in the same hell I was in for so long. I can’t let her stay there, just like I can’t let Daniel give up.

“Fighter, no,” Daniel’s telling me in a soft voice. He touches my cheek, oblivious to the eye roll Vasily is sending our way. “You don’t have to—”

“I know,” I say softly and bite the tip of the thumb he strokes across my lip. “But you’re going to come get me, right?”

“I’d fucking die before I left you in there,” Daniel says, and the intensity in his eyes tells me it’s the truth.

“Then we do this,” I say. I turn back to Mendoza. I’m still surprised to see that the man running this weird military compound full of families and children is young and handsome, but he could be on the cover of GQ. Well, maybe more like Guns and Ammo, but he’s still pretty. He’s thick with muscles and deeply tanned, his hair a dark buzz against his scalp. His eyes are this fascinating shade of amber I’ve only seen on models.

My friend Becca would eat him up.

Then again, fuck Becca.

Mendoza regards me for a long moment, waiting to see if I’m going to lose my shit. When I return his gaze, calm and easy, he nods. “A day at the most.”

“A day?” Daniel explodes. “A full day? No. Absolutely not—”

“What is plan?” Petrovich interrupts, his accent thick and calm. “Send her in with poison?”

I swallow hard. I’m supposed to kill someone? “I don’t know that I could do that.”

Mendoza cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “We can put a GPS on her. Send her in. Even if she’s immobilized, she’ll be placed in a location that hasn’t been discovered through my sweeps. I’ve sent in caterers, repair techs, pool people, but we can’t locate the safe rooms. I’m guessing they’re downstairs, but we haven’t been able to get down there. We’ve got the technology to make a map based off Regan’s movements.” Mendoza grins at me, and I return a weak smile. “I’ve wanted to shut it down for a while but have been waiting for the right moment. We will go in, fetch the women and the man you want to retrieve, come out, and destroy everything in our wake.”

I nod. “So I go in and try to get to as many places as I’m allowed, look for an American blonde named Naomi, look for a hacker, and sit pretty. I can do this.” I glance over at Daniel, but his face is like ice. He’s not happy, but he knows we’re stuck. “But if you send me in with Gomes, how do we know he’s not going to warn the others that it’s a trap?”

“He has a car, does he not?” Mendoza says. “We send you in his car with a note. Gomes said it’s Hudson’s birthday tomorrow. We send you in as a present.”

I shudder at the thought. “All right.”

“When do we do this?” Vasily asks. “Every hour we waste is another hour he can find out what we’re up to and slip away.”

“We start in the morning,” Daniel says. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner I get Regan out of there.”

I nod, concealing the trembling in my hands. I’m terrified, but it’s a risk we have to take. “Let’s do this.”

Daniel

THE PLAN IS SIMPLE BUT so flawed. There are so many things that can go wrong, but if we don’t let her go . . . There has to be another way, but if Mendoza’s men have been in more than once and can’t find the hideaway then sending Regan in with a GPS tracker might be our only chance.

I try not to make love to her that night like it’s our last time together. As I move my hand over the curve of her waist, down over the hill of her ass, to the hidden crease between her legs, I’m memorizing the path only because it’s beautiful and erotic and every man should have a physical memory like this. When I dip my head to her chest and suckle and bite the tender flesh as she grips my hair and breathes out my name like a benediction, I close my eyes and try to imprint this moment in my mind only because the soundtrack of my life should only be the soft cries of arousal followed by screams of completion.

“Daniel. Daniel. Daniel,” she chants as I move lower between her legs. I take my time here, licking her in long slow movements. So good. Her taste on my tongue is an aphrodisiac. My cock becomes harder, swells bigger as each droplet of excitement hits my mouth.

I bury my nose into cunt and breathe deep. This is the only scent I ever want in my head. Inside her channel there’s more of her essence, and I spear my tongue inside, trying to devour her. My fingers stretch her opening wide so that every inch of the delicate flesh is exposed to my ravenous appetite. My tongue and lips and teeth work every inch of her pussy and clit until she is drenching them with her arousal.

“Come all over my tongue,” I growl. Her thighs quiver with the force of her orgasms as she obeys, and I lap every bit of her liquid up. My cock is wet from my own small release. I spread my pre-cum down the sides and then hold up my palm to her face. “Lick it.”

She does more than lick it. She mouths each finger and then laves my palm with the flat of her tongue. I’m groaning and panting at how her fucking tongue on my palm makes me want to come all over her. With enormous effort, I pull away so I can slide two fingers inside her, where I scoop out her moisture and lather it on my straining organ.

“I want you all over me,” I whisper. With one hand I rub my cockhead against her opening, flicking her little clit until her hot little body is shaking all over with want. I glide in slowly, my teeth gritted, enjoying each pulse of her cunt walls against my dick. The tendons of her neck stand out in sharp relief as she tips her head back in answer to my first thrust inside her. I pull almost fully out of her and then shallowly pump so that she hugs just the head. It’s a tease for both of us, but I want this night to last forever.

“God, Daniel,” she half sobs, half laughs and then rises on her elbows to pin me with a glare. “Stop tormenting me, dammit.”

I lay a hard palm on the top of her pelvis and drive into her with one swift motion until I’m fully seated. She falls back with a scream.

“Is this how you want it?” My voice is so hard and rough that I barely recognize it.

“Yes,” she snarls back. “I want it harder, faster. I want more.”

My hips move with such force that she’s sliding across the mattress. Her hands and feet are scrambling for purchase as she seeks some way to push back. I grab her around the hips and pull her toward me. I may have started out with gentleness, but my self-control has left me and there’s only one way out of this maelstrom. Her hands latch on to my wrists. As if there’s a jackhammer driving through my spine, I thrust inside of her relentlessly. My fingers are leaving bruises on her skin, but the way that she’s clawing at my arms tells me she is with me all the way.

“I’m close. Soooo close,” she cries. I maintain my rhythm, hard, fast, and steady until she’s exploding. Then I lean over, one hand braced by her head, both her legs over my shoulders, and I hammer furiously into her wet tight glove until my orgasm comes.

“I’ve got you,” I shout. “Let go.”

When I’m spent, I collapse by her side, pulling her into my arms. We rub each other’s backs and arms and spread soft, drugged kisses over the skin available to us.

“I love you,” she whispers in between caresses. No matter what happens tomorrow, we’ll have this. I clutch her body closer so I can feel her heartbeat against mine.

Regan

I’M PRETTY GOOD AT LYING to myself, it seems.

I told myself that after I left the brothel, I never wanted another man to touch me. Lies.

I told myself that I’d never be vulnerable again. Lies. I’m vulnerable every time Daniel looks at me with that wicked grin on his face and my heart jumps in response.

I told myself I’d never go back to the brothel. But here I am, volunteering to go to Freeze’s house because that’s where Naomi is and I’m what we need to get her out. I know Daniel wouldn’t judge me if I chickened out. He doesn’t want me to go. But I need to go. If not just for Naomi, for all the other girls that have been stolen and disappeared behind those walls, never to appear again. It’s not just for Daniel.

But . . . there I go again, lying to myself.

I smooth my hands down his spine, enjoying the feel of his sweat-slicked skin against my own. In Daniel’s arms, I’m whole. In Daniel’s arms, the world is safe.

And I’m leaving his arms for the enemy tomorrow. I shiver and burrow my face into his neck, breathing in his sweaty scent.

“You okay?” Daniel asks, running a hand down my arm.

“If things go bad tomorrow,” I ask in a soft voice, “you’ll come and find me, right? No matter what it takes?”

He props his body up on his elbows and gazes down at me, all relaxation gone from his body. He’s practically vibrating with tension now. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, Regan.”

“It’s just . . .” I swallow hard. “Hudson’s not right in the head. I don’t think I could deal with two months with him. I lived through two months in the brothel, but I don’t think I could do it with him. If you can’t come get me, I’ll figure out a way—”

“A way to what?” Daniel’s voice is harsh.

“To make them shoot me,” I say. But my voice is very small in the face of his anger.

“No,” he growls, and he grabs my chin in his hand and forces me to look at him when I avert my eyes. “You think I won’t come after you? You think I’d let that fucker touch one hair on your head while I’ve still got breath in my body? You don’t do anything but what we outlined in the plan, Regan, because I swear I will fucking come and rescue you like some goddamn knight in shining armor. And you don’t believe otherwise until they roll my dead body at your feet, all right? Because the thought of you killing yourself because you don’t have any hope left eats at my fucking gut, and I’m not going to be able to let you go in there if that’s even on the table.”

“All right,” I tell him softly. “All right.”

“It’s not all right.” There’s a fierce possessiveness in his eyes as he pulls me close and begins to press feverish kisses to my skin. “You’re mine, Regan Porter. You don’t get to decide if you die or not. Because if you do, you’re destroying me, too.”

“It was just a suggestion,” I say and drag my fingers through his messy hair. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

But there I go, lying to myself again.

Twenty-three

Regan

IN THE MORNING , I’VE BEEN trussed up like the present I’m supposed to be. One of the ladies in the favela took me aside and gave me a white shift to wear that’s practically see-through. Underneath, I’m wearing a white lacy panty and bra set. I don’t know how they managed to get these things in such a short period of time, but Mendoza’s people are incredibly efficient. Once I’m dressed, the woman curls my hair, fixes my makeup, and then works a GPS tracker the size of a pearl into the seam of my bra cup. It’s utterly invisible, but I can feel it there, and it makes me anxious. I wish I had my gun, but I’m not allowed that. I’m not even allowed shoes.

When I head out to the car, Mendoza, several of his men, and Vasily Petrovich are waiting. They’re all armed to the teeth. Daniel is crouching on the ground, raking a hand through his hair over and over again, and he gets to his feet at the sight of me. He approaches, a dark expression on his face.

“How do I look?” I keep my voice light so he doesn’t know how scared I am.

“Like a fighter,” Daniel tells me grimly. His hand brushes down my arm, and he keeps looking me over, as if making sure that I’m still okay.

I force a smile to my face. “That’s not the object here, Daniel. I’m supposed to look sexy.”

“Regan,” he tells me and grabs the back of my neck, dragging me against him. My breasts mash against his tactical vest that is studded with weapons. While I’ve been getting ready, he has, too. “Look, just because we’re sending you in there doesn’t mean that you have to do whatever that sadistic bastard wants, okay? You fight him if he touches you.”

I shake my head. “Daniel, you know that I can’t. I was sent to Gomes because he wanted me obedient. If I’m not obedient, he’s not going to keep me around.”

“I don’t care,” Daniel grits out, and his voice is hoarse with barely contained rage. He presses his forehead to mine. “I’m not sending you in to get hurt. I can’t take that—”

I silence him with a kiss that’s going to ruin my lip gloss. It’s a quick one, but I love the feel of Daniel’s mouth on mine. “I know,” I breathe against his mouth when I pull away. “Daniel, I love you. I trust you. You’ll come and get me. I know you will.”

The look he gives me is tormented. “Regan—”

“And when you do,” I murmur against his mouth, wishing I had time to kiss him properly, “we’re going to go find that private island of yours, and you can spend all the time you want oiling me up. I promise.”

“Damn it, fighter. Don’t give me a boner right now.”

I giggle.

“Time to go,” Vasily says in a flat voice behind us. For a moment, my laughing, cocky, devil-may-care Daniel looks murderous. But he releases me with another quick kiss pressed to my brow.

Gomes’ car is out front, and it’s a flashy low-rider with a cherry red paint job. Yeah, we’ll be noticed. Gomes is sitting behind the front wheel, and he’s sweating with terror. “We can trust him?”

Mendoza opens his hand, revealing a small vial. “He’s poisoned, and I am the only one with the antidote. He’ll be watched. Any sign of betrayal and this goes down the drain.”

“Creative,” I murmur. Another bead of sweat rolls down Gomes’ nose while I watch.

Vasily hands me something. It’s a birthday card. I snort and tuck the envelope against me. “Should I, you know, do anything if it’s all going to hell? Do I need a back-up plan?”

“No,” Daniel says flatly. “It doesn’t matter because I’m coming after you either way.”

I smile at that. “Deal.”

We test the tracker to make sure it’s working, and then there’s no more time to stall. I take in a deep breath, get into the back of the car, and Gomes turns out of the compound.

I clutch the envelope in trembling fingers, watching the streets and alternately watching Gomes as we make our way through the favela. He’s sweating like crazy, and I’m worried it’s going to give something away. This has to work, though. It has to.

All too soon, I see the familiar compound rising in the distance. I quell the panic rising inside me. I can do this. I can do this. Naomi, I think. Naomi and a hacker. I need both of them. Actually, all I care about is Naomi, but if Hudson is holding someone else against his will, I want to save that man, too.

Gomes pulls up to the gate sideways, my door facing the massive gate. Two soldiers approach, guns in hand. “Time for you to get out,” Gomes says to me in a trembling voice.

“I’m going,” I say quietly and open the door.

One man trains his gun on me while the other approaches, and my heart stops. My hand is shaking as I hold out the birthday card. I say nothing.

The man takes the birthday card and looks over at Gomes. Then, he nods and eyes me. He says something to me in Portuguese—a question.

I panic. “I . . . I don’t know,” I say, my voice small, and I cringe when he repeats it again. It’s not hard to act scared in front of these men. I’m terrified.

He says something again and then begins to pat me down roughly, taking his time squeezing my ass and breasts. I cringe and endure his touch, my eyes closed, horrible memories flashing through my mind again. I can do this. I can do this.

Naomi, I repeat to myself. I must save Naomi.

The man slaps my ass and laughs when I jump, then hands the card back to me. He gestures me forward, and the gate opens. Only then do I realize I hear party music.

Of course. It’s his birthday party.

The guard leads me in, and I stare in amazement as people swirl around us. There are balloons and people in suits and girls in bikinis everywhere. And guns. Everywhere, there are guns and armed men. It’s a weird contrast to see someone holding an assault rifle and standing next to the punch bowl, but there it is.

And at a table under an umbrella near the pool, sits Mr. Freeze. He’s a sliver of ice amongst the sea of color, and I feel my stomach churn in fright at the sight of him.

The guard leads me right to him, and all eyes turn in our direction.

Oh God, I feel so utterly conspicuous. Do they know I’ve got the tracker? Oh God. Oh God.

Hudson gets to his feet, his pale hair gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. His suit is a pale, pale blue that almost seems white, and his tie the same color. His sunglasses are the only splash of color anywhere. He says something to his guard that I don’t understand and then both look at me.

With a shaking hand, I hold out the birthday card, my head bent.

Hudson takes the card, flips it open and reads it, then tosses it aside. He steps closer, and his hand brushes my cheek. Even his fingers are cold. It takes everything I have not to flinch away, but I keep my gaze downcast.

“So, little biter,” he says to me. “Are you ready to be mine now?”

“Yes, master,” I say. I hate the words. Hate them. He’s not my master.

He tucks a finger under my chin and tilts my head back, examining my face. My eyelashes flutter and I keep my gaze down and let a shiver or two in so he knows that I’m afraid.

After a moment, he grunts approval. “And have you learned the games I like?”

Games?

Panic flashes through me. Games? What games? Gomes was supposed to teach me games? What kind of sick games does this man like?

My response must show on my face. He tsks and turns to his table, saying something in a pleasant voice. Then, he gestures at his guard. “Take her to my room. Make her ready.”

The guard grabs me by the elbow, and before I can ask what he means, I’m dragged inside the house. I get a glimpse of a mansion filled with potted plants and pretty tiled floors as I’m dragged through, and then I’m heading up a set of stairs and down a hall. Passing several more doors, I’m brought into a bedroom.

The guard heads right on in through the bedroom and to a door at the back of the room.

“Where are we going?” I stammer. “Hello?”

The guard doesn’t answer me. Instead, he flings the door to the closet open.

Except, it’s not a closet. It’s another room. A guard is sitting there, smoking a cigarette and flipping through a magazine. He stands at the sight of me, and the two guards begin a conversation. The new one eyes me lasciviously, and then I’m passed over to him.

We head through another door, and I’m taken down a narrow, cold set of stairs. Hudson’s house is a maze, and it almost feels like I’m being taken through a secret tunnel or something. I hope Daniel will know where to find me, but I’m getting more frightened with every moment.

The new guard takes me a few doors down and then opens one marked PRIVADO.

This room . . . is a sex room. There’s a cross with cuffs on it at the back of the room, a wooden horse, and all kinds of various paraphernalia in this room. It’s horrible. My frightened gasp makes the guard laugh, and he pushes me in. “Strip.”

“I . . . what?” I cling to the shift I’m wearing.

“You strip,” he tells me, pointing his gun in my direction.

Oh God, the GPS. Will Daniel know where I’m going? “Strip?” I repeat, stalling for time.

“You. Strip.”

When the man starts to head forward to do it himself, I wave him off and begin to remove my clothing. I peek at the guard, but he’s not paying attention to me. Instead, he’s heading to the far side of the room as I undress.

I remove everything and ball the clothes together, tucking the panties and bra into the shift so he won’t find the GPS. I look at the door. I might be able to escape before he shoots me . . . but then what? Then Naomi is lost. I suck in a breath and clutch the ball of clothing to my chest.

The guard returns a moment later with handcuffs. He takes the clothes from my hands, clasps one handcuff around my wrist, and drags me toward a metal pole in the center of the room. There are a few iron circles at the top of the pole and he clasps the other end of the handcuff through it, locking me there.

“Stay,” he tells me. “Good dog.” And he laughs in my face.

He’s still laughing as he leaves me in this horrible room. I’m naked, handcuffed to a bar, and surrounded by deviant toys that are clearly meant for the enjoyment of one party, and it’s not me. There are spikes and whips and things I can’t even begin to imagine their use, but it doesn’t look good.

I’m naked, and I’m trapped, and I don’t even have my GPS tracker anymore. There’s no sign of Naomi. There’s no sign of anyone. I’m stuck in this torture room all alone.

My bravery deserts me, and I begin to sob.

TIME PASSES , AND I KEEP CRYING until I’m hoarse, until the sobs that rack from my chest are ugly and painful. I can’t seem to stop. It’s like all the pressure that’s been building up has exploded with nowhere left to go except tears. I’ve messed everything up. I’m supposed to be finding Daniel’s sister and the hacker, and handling things. Instead, I’m naked and handcuffed in a sadist’s sex basement.

So I cry. And cry.

And cry.

There’s a knock at the door, which startles me out of my tears and sends me back into terror. I back up as much as the bar will let me, my now-raw wrist slamming against the handcuff above my head.

The door opens a moment later, and a woman in a beaten-up baseball cap peers in. She scowls in my direction, shuts the door, and walks toward me. “There must be silence if I’m to work. Those are the rules.”

I blink my tears back, startled. “W-what?”

“Silence. I told Hudson that if he wants me to be his Emperor, I have to have silence. Silence makes the atoms happy. If the atoms are happy, my brain functions at a higher level.” She crosses her arms and looks down at me. “You’re making my atoms very unhappy.”