Page 30 of Jezebel's Liberation

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that he made it seem like you guys really knew each other,” I grumble, staring at the picture of the man in question.

“I mean, we’ve worked together for several years, so I guess he knows me well enough.” She frowns before slowly spinning her chair around so she’s facing me. For a moment, she’s silent, so I finally shift my eyes from the screen to her face. “Wait a sec… Are you jealous?”

I scoff. “No. What the fuck would I be jealous of?”

Her gaze darts over her shoulder to the image of Phantom and then back to me. “Well, I was going to say because of how close he is to me, but…” The damn worry crease on her forehead deepens.

“But what?” I snap.

“But… nothing. Never mind.”

Sensing that I’m uncomfortable with where she’s trying to take this conversation, she switches topics and spends the next few hours telling me about Bela, the last member of her team, and what exactly it is that Hellfire Hackers does. And surprisingly, when I have questions, she answers them.

When she’s done, we take a break to eat some lunch, and then we return to the bunker under the basement. Knowing I’m going to have to face my worst nightmare, I’m the first one to break the silence.

“Tell me about Ted McCormick,” I say, my hands balled into fists at my side. “How did he pop up on your radar?”

Jez taps away on her keyboard for a moment, and before I have a chance to brace myself, an image of Ted appears on the largest monitor. Bile rises up the back of my throat, and it’s all I can do to keep from letting it fly from my mouth.

“About two years ago, one of the many digital traps I have set up popped with an alert,” she begins. “It was a news article about a man in North Carolina who was named a person of interest in an investigation of the rape of a nine-year-old girl. The man’s name was Ian Hunt, so at first, I thought it would turn into a normal case for us.” She pauses, a darkness passing through her hazel eyes. “But then I saw the picture that accompanied the article.”

Her fingers fly over the keyboard, and the image on the monitor changes to a picture of the news article. My stomach bottoms out, and my knees buckle as I lock onto the familiar face of Ted McCormick.

My eyes slide to Missy, the thirteen-year-old he has strapped to his dining room table. Tears run down her cheeks, but she mouths ‘It’s okay’.

Gritting my teeth, I stride toward the table. When there’s mere inches between us, I reach out and cup Missy’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, knowing what I’m about to do makes me just as bad as Ted.

I place my hand over her mouth to stifle any screams Ted might cause. As Ted shoves his pants over his hips, I close my eyes and try to imagine I’m anywhere but here.

“Jesus, you couldn’t wait?”

Whipping my head toward the door, I see Stewart Crane, and my entire body begins to shake because his presence only means one thing.

“The fun was just beginning,” Ted says, his tone husky and disgusting.

By the time Stewart reaches us, he’s kicked his pants off and is stroking his engorged dick.

“Bend over, boy,” he orders, shoving me down so my upper body is draped over Missy’s boobs.

“If I hear so much as a whimper escape Missy’s pretty lips,” Ted taunts while Stewart yanks my pants down to my knees. “My friend will only make it hurt more.”

I lock my eyes on Missy, and pain explodes in my ass at the same time that her body is jerked up the table as far as the restraints allow. She squeezes her eyes closed, and I increase the pressure of my hand over her mouth, silently telling her to look at me.

When her eyes open, tears slide out of the corners, and?—

“Dammit, Demon!” The words are punctuated by a slap across my face, and I’m ripped from the torture that is my memory.

It takes a moment for my body to recognize that it’s in Jez’s house and not that fucker’s apartment, but as soon as I register the wall of muscle behind me, I struggle to break free of the arms around me.

“Hey, Demon,” Jez says softly, cupping my cheek and doing nothing to protect herself from my fear. “Come back to me.”

“Stop fighting, and I’ll let you go.”

---