Page 96 of Rampage

"You," I say, looking directly at the youngest. "What's your name?"

He startles, glancing nervously at Walter before answering. "Why do you care?"

"Because when this is over, when Reid and the MC hunt down everyone involved, I want to remember who showed even a shred of humanity." I hold his gaze steadily. "It might make the difference between a quick death and what they'll do to the rest of you."

Fear flickers across his face, and Walter notices. "Shut your mouth," he snaps at me before turning to the younger man. "Don't listen to her bullshit, Danny. Her boyfriend's a doctor playing at being a tough guy. The MC's gone soft."

But I can see doubt has been planted. Good.

"We're live," announces the camera operator. The red light blinks on, and Walter straightens, moving into the frame beside me.

"Hello, viewers," he says with theatrical menace. "And a special greeting to Reid Matthews and the Grim Sinners. Tonight, we're going to demonstrate what happens to people who testify against the Dawson family."

He grips my hair, wrenching my head back to expose my throat. I refuse to cry out, locking my jaw against the pain.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Walter continues, tracing my jawline with one finger. "Shame what's about to happen to that pretty face."

A distant sound catches my attention, the faintest rumble of motorcycles, still far away but approaching. Hope surges in my chest, but I keep my expression neutral. If I can stall, if I can keep them talking, Reid might reach me in time.

"You're making a mistake," I say loudly, addressing not just Walter but the camera. "Frank sent you to do his dirty work while he sits safe in a cell. But you're the ones who'll pay the price."

Walter's hand connects with my cheek, the impact snapping my head to the side. "Shut your mouth!"

I taste blood but smile through it, a fierce, defiant grin that seems to unnerve him. "You hit like your brother. Weak. No wonder he needed to prey on defenseless girls."

His face contorts with rage, and he raises his hand again. Before he can strike, the youngest kidnapper—Danny—shifts uncomfortably.

"Walter, maybe we should just get this over with," he suggests, eyes darting nervously toward the windows. "Send the message and go."

"We're just getting started," Walter snarls, but there's a new tension in his shoulders. He's heard it too, the distant rumble growing louder.

I laugh, the sound harsh and unnatural even to my own ears. "They're coming for me. Can you hear them? That's the sound of your death approaching."

The heavy-set man moves to the window, peering through the blinds. "There's nothing out there," he insists, but his voice wavers with uncertainty.

"Not yet," I agree, steel entering my tone. "But they will be. Reid won't stop until he finds me. And when he does…" I let the threat hang in the air, watching fear flicker across their faces.

Walter grabs a knife from the table, pressing the tip against my collarbone. "Then we'd better give him something to find."

The cold metal breaks skin, and I inhale sharply as blood wells around the blade's point. The pain is bright, immediate, but I refuse to scream. I won't give them the satisfaction.

"Go ahead," I challenge, meeting Walter's gaze steadily. "Show everyone watching what a coward you are. Hurting a tied-up woman because you're too weak to face real men."

His grip on the knife tightens, uncertainty flashing in his eyes. I've struck a nerve—his pride, his masculinity. Men like Walter and Frank are predictable that way.

"Turn off the camera," he orders suddenly. "This bitch doesn't deserve an audience."

"But Frank said—" the camera operator begins.

"I don't give a fuck what Frank said!" Walter roars. "This is my show now."

The camera's red light blinks off, and Walter leans in close, his breath hot against my face. "Now it's just us, sweetheart. No witnesses."

Outside, the rumble has stopped. Complete silence falls, more terrifying than any noise. Walter notices it too, his head jerking toward the window.

"Check outside," he orders the heavy-set man, who moves reluctantly toward the door.

I force my expression into a mask of cold defiance, even as terror claws at my insides. The knife digs deeper, a thin line of fire across my collarbone, but I won't let them see me break. I won't give Walter the satisfaction of my fear.

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