Page 171 of Savage Hearts

My brain told me to just turn around and walk away, pretending I didn’t hear anything because there was no way to unsee anything.

I should be protecting my ignorance.

I swallowed hard and opened the door. The noise got louder.

The unmistakable cry of a man in pain.

There was a staircase leading down to what I assumed was the basement.

Tears filled my eyes. Perhaps a part of me knew what I was about to see before seeing it. My vision tunneled darker the deeper I got into the basement. The noise of the man seemed to drown out my ragged breath, heavy footfalls, and erratic heartbeat.

My bare feet touched the cold, hard floor, the sensation bringing my reality back into clear focus. I bit the inside of my cheek. Now would be the time to turn back around. I could still preserve my innocence a little longer. I could preserve my naïveperception of the men who had taken me, no matter how stupid it was for me to do so.

I kept walking.

I couldn’t say I was surprised when I turned a corner to what could only be described as their torture dungeon, a place I hadn’t realized existed until now.

All three brothers were facing away from me.

Their attention was on a shirtless man near the back, both arms raised and tied to the ceiling. His feet didn’t even touch the ground.

He was bleeding all over his body. And there was a pool of blood on the ground beneath him. He was on the verge of death. I had never seen a man die before. I had never wanted to.

The brothers didn’t notice me.

Maverick and Killian were mostly observing while Silas…

Silas was the one doing everything. A whip was held casually in his hand, and based on the whip marks on the man’s torso, they had been at this for a while.

A whip.

The scars on my back felt hot, and I reached behind me, letting my fingers trace the familiar lines, something I had done too many times to count over the years. But this time felt different. It was as if there was an anchor attached to my heart, dragging it down into the depths.

As if I was drowning.

“I’m not a patient man,” Silas said in a tone I had never heard him use before. I hadn’t realized he could sound so cold, so cruel, so… inhuman. “Why don’t you tell me the purpose of your little mission today?”

“The girl,” the man gasped, choking on a sob. “Fuck, please. I was just following orders.”

Me? Someone was looking for me. I thought back to Lenny. He’d never said who he was supposed to bring me back to. If not my father, then?—

“Whose orders?” Silas asked.

The man didn’t answer fast enough, and Silas whipped him, the sound harsh. His cries covered my gasp.

The sight of the man disappeared as a memory formed: Dad had cut open my shirt, leaving me in nothing but my bra in front of his men while he whipped me. I could still feel the burn of each mark.

I flinched at the whoosh every time Silas moved his arm.

Stop. Please stop.

I might have said that out loud. Or not. No one paid any attention to me.

Nausea built in my throat, and I pleaded with my brain to get me out of here. I didn’t have to watch. I could leave.

Just. Leave.

I was stuck, frozen.

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