Page 172 of Sin Like the Devil

“Dress, Ripley. We’re going for a walk.”

When Harrison stomps over to us, I catch a flash of a black weapon before it presses into the back of my head. It takes a moment for the metallic coldness to register.

“Now,” Harrisons says tersely. “I have permission to paint your brains across this cell if you disobey.”

There’s a gun nudging my skull. Not a baton. Nor a taser. It seems that not even Harrowdean’s false pretence of being a safe, law-abiding facility can survive the evil of the Z wing. We’ve all been stripped to our bare selves, guard and patient alike.

“Move, Ripley.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper to Lennox. “Let me go.”

“No,” he clips out.

“He’ll only shoot us both, Nox. Let go.”

His jaw set in an unyielding line, Lennox eventually surrenders me. My cuffed wrists held to my chest, I slither towards my discarded clothing, utterly humiliated by the show I’m putting on. Harrison doesn’t have the decency to look away as I locate the wet pile across the cell.

“What about me?” Lennox asks.

“You’re staying right here, lover boy. Professor Craven will be along shortly.”

My blood freezes solid as fear takes root.

“The professor doesn’t want to see me?”

“Oh, no. Sir Bancroft would prefer to deal with you himself.”

Something tells me I shouldn’t be relieved.

With Harrison’s leer still locked on me, I pick through the wet clothing. Panties first. He rolls his eyes while watching me struggle with my bra, stepping forward to unlock my handcuffs. The metal chafes my raw skin and rips scabs open as it moves.

“Ouchie.” Harrison grins.

I blink away tears. “Had worse.”

“We’ll see how long that bravery lasts.”

Gingerly putting on my bra, I pick up the mud-stained t-shirt to pull on next. Something dislodges from the sodden fabric and hits the floor. The flash of white card captures Harrison’s gaze.

“What is that?” he demands.

Terror lashes against my insides. “Nothing!”

“Up against the goddamn wall.”

With the gun trained on me, cocked and waiting to be unloaded, I have no choice but to slip the t-shirt on and inch away. Harrison keeps his weapon pointed at me as he squats down to retrieve the business card.

Amidst all the carnage, I forgot about stashing it in my bra yesterday. The guard didn’t notice when he stripped me off, far too preoccupied with being a sadistic overlord. That goddamn card has just stamped my death warrant.

“Sabre Security?” Harrison reads in disbelief.

“I d-don’t know… how that got there.”

Lennox looks between us, as shocked by the presence of the business card as Harrison is. I may as well have walked myself in front of a firing squad.

Stomping over to me, Harrison grabs my bicep. I struggle against him until he smashes the butt of his gun into my head. Excruciating pain flares through my skull, reigniting the wound from my last act of defiance.

The handcuffs are quickly snapped back in place while I’m still reeling. It’s taking all my self-control not to hurl on his freshly cleaned steel-capped weapons of mass destruction.

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