Page 95 of Home Town Knight

“You’re brave now. That won’t last long. Bravado never does.”

I didn’t even try to hide the way I was shaking. “You think this is bravado? I’m terrified. But I still won’t tell you. Because I have my integrity. I know what’s right, and I would rather die a painful death than sacrifice someone else.”

He grabbed my left hand. The cuff dug into my skin. Duke positioned the blade between my pinky and fourth finger and drew the knife back fast, slicing into the delicate skin there.

Pain. Bright. Sharp. Cold, then burning hot. I pressed my lips together and grunted.

“Who is your source?”

“Fuck you,” I gritted out.

Blood welled between my fingers from the cut. Duke flipped the hand over and, without any hesitation, sliced a fresh cut across my palm. A loud whimper escaped my lips. God, ithurt. Sweat poured from my forehead despite the cold room. I gagged.

“That’s a first taste of what’s in store,” he said. “It’s only getting worse from here. See how you like it, and then?—”

The phone on the coffee table vibrated. He looked back at it. Stood and went to pick it up.

While he was occupied, I examined the cuts on my hand. Blood already soaked my skin. I spread my fingers slightly, and my head swam when I saw how deep it was. I made a fist and tried clamping my other hand over it to put pressure on the cuts.

My head pounded so loud it was like hearing a drum, or the rush of an engine. Bile coated my tongue. I stayed silent, but inside my head, I screamed curses at how much it hurt.

Think of something good, I told myself, and immediately Ipictured Owen. His smile and warmth and the feeling of his soft, short hair beneath my fingers. My eyes fluttered closed.

I’d find a way out of this, and if I couldn’t, then my mind would go somewhere else. I wouldn’t break.

“The bastards are early!” Duke shouted.

I gasped and opened my eyes. This was the first time I’d heard him raise his voice, show the slightest emotion.

“We’re leaving.” He stalked over to me. I flinched, but he just unlocked the right cuff, pulled the chain free of the pipe, and quickly replaced it on my wrist. My left hand was slick with blood. It soaked into my coat sleeve.

“What’s going on? Where are we going?”

“My ride is here early. I told them I wasn’t ready yet, but they’re the ones who make the schedule. You and I aren’t finished, and that means you’re coming with me.”

“Stillwater is here?”

“Put this around your hand.” He grabbed a tea towel from the kitchen and tossed it at me. “You were the one who insisted on wasting time talking. I promise you, you’ll like my employers a lot less than you like me.”

I twisted the towel around my hand and held it in place. He grabbed a duffel, which already looked mostly full. His laptop and a few other items went inside. Then he grabbed his handgun and gestured at the door.

“Let’s go.”

“No. I’m not going anywhere.”

He came over and yanked me up by the hair. I felt strands ripping free from my scalp, shocking a scream out of me.

When we got outside, Duke pointed at a path to one side of the cabin, leading downhill. “That way.”

I took a few steps, then paused. That sound…was it a helicopter? Absurdly, it made me think of the news choppers in Denver. I realized I’d heard it inside too, but I’d thought it was in my head.

I craned my neck. The sound was getting louder, though I couldn’t see it yet.

“Keep going,” he said. “We need to hurry. Do not test me.”

The fresh air woke me more with every breath. The pain in my hand receded to a dull, if persistent, throb. The right cuff was tight, but the left had a bit of slack. And my skin was slick from the blood. I tugged, keeping the motion hidden under the tea towel. My thumb joint almost slipped inside the metal ring of the cuff. I tugged again. The pain in the cuts was awful. And the metal was scraping my skin raw. But every time, my hand slipped further and further past the cuff.If I could get free…

Noifabout it. I had to get away before they got me into that helicopter. Nothing but torture and death awaited me, and Duke was right. He was just a security guard. Stillwater’s real enforcers were probably far worse than him.

---